


(You're) The Magic In My Soul

by CaliHart, dottie_wan_kenobi



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Cats, Developing Relationship, Dragons, Family, Food, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Magical Tattoos, Soulmates, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-22 09:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliHart/pseuds/CaliHart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: A year after the Battle, Steve still finds himself adrift in the future. It isn’t easy connecting to his teammates, who do their best to crack his shell. During a night out he meets Bucky, who claims to be a friendly witch, as well as Steve’s soulmate. It takes some time for Steve to get used to the fact that magic exists, and that Bucky’s family is brimming with it.One day Bucky and Steve find a dragon egg in the park. Unsettled, Bucky tells Steve not to touch it when they take it home--unable to resist, the egg hatches into a small, sun-colored dragon right in his hands. Now in the possession of an illegal baby dragon, they turn to Bucky’s grandma, who apparently has a whole life outside of family and the family’s magic shop. They soon discover that dragon eggs are being smuggled in the black market. It takes more than Steve expected to save the day.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mypissedoffsandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mypissedoffsandwich/gifts).



> This fic would not exist without my alpha reader Dottie. She's put so much effort into it, she's more than earned the title of co-creator. Go check out her fics too!
> 
> The art in this fic was done by [Dresden](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mypissedoffsandwich) who is also the mod of this bang and has done so much to make it great for us. I could never thank him enough. 
> 
> The prologue does not match the formatting of the rest of the story. It was inspired by the movie Penelope

Back in the year 1872 in Munich, Germany, there was a childless couple by the names of Margarete and Otto Fischer. They had tried for years to have a child but were sadly unsuccessful. A witch lived nearby, and the couple, after much strife, went to ask the witch if she would help them to have children. She agreed on the condition that they would let her have their first born child to teach the ways of magic. The couple, after several days of consideration and discussion, agreed.

Nine months later they had a healthy baby boy named Hermann, and Otto reluctantly went to inform the witch. The witch delightedly came to see the boy, but after gazing at him for a few minutes, she smiled at the new parents and said she would be back to visit again soon. When Otto questioned her, she told them that she had no intention of raising the child herself, as she had little patience for other humans. She only wanted to train up an apprentice, and would come by frequently when the child was old enough to learn.

With that, the couple happily settled into raising Hermann and the two sisters, Elisabeth and Helene, they gave him, and the witch visited occasionally until he was old enough for her to teach him. The witch, who the children came to call Aunt Thalia, taught all three of them as they grew.

One thing the witch taught them was that the magic could help them find someone whose soul was compatible with theirs. The magic would show them a star above another person’s head, visible only to them, and that is how they would know. The star would start off white and slowly change color to reflect the nature of the relationship; blue for romance, green for friendship, purple for a nontraditional partner, yellow for a friend who could also be an enemy, orange for family, blood or chosen, and red for those who would turn out not to be truly compatible after all.

Upon entrance into their teen years, it was discovered that Hermann made a terrible apprentice, but Elisabeth was excellent at it. Hermann continued to learn, however, and when he married Louise Konrad in 1890, he began to teach her some of the magic he had learned.

Four years after marrying, Hermann and Louise moved to America, settling soon after in Brooklyn, New York, and there they started their family. The family grew and flourished, and their children, and grandchildren, and their spouses, and all the subsequent generations learned magic. The family was not evil, and often used their magic to help people in their community, casting small spells to help food stay fresh longer, or to heal minor injuries.

In one branch, the family name changed from Fischer to Barnes, when Winifred Fischer married George Barnes in 1983, and they proceeded to have four children.

My name is Bucky Barnes, and I was born in 1984, along with my twin sister, Becca. Friendly neighborhood witches, at your service.


	2. Chapter 1

It’s a Friday night, and Bucky and his friends are at The Underground, one of the most popular bars for magical folk in Brooklyn, to celebrate Karen’s promotion. They’ve been there for an hour and a half, and have already had five shots of magic-infused vodka and a Mai Tai. Bucky’s well past tipsy and on his way to sloshed. He leaves his table on a quest to the bathroom and on the way back, he trips right into the most well-built man he’s ever seen. There’s a star floating above the man’s head, and it doesn’t go away when Bucky blinks. Some part of him registers that as Important even if he can’t quite remember why just then. He clutches at the man’s biceps and is dimly aware of the man grabbing his waist to steady him. 

“Will you be my friend?” Bucky blurts out. The man frowns in confusion. “You seem nice. I like nice people.” The man glances at a woman next to him, who laughs. 

“Go on, Steve, be his friend,” she encourages. 

“Um...okay?” The man, Steve, says. 

“Great!” Bucky grins. “Steve is a nice name. I’m Bucky.” 

“Nice to meet you, Bucky,” Steve says. His hair is shiny blond and nowhere near as long as Bucky’s, but Bucky still wants to bury his hands in it. 

“You should come meet my Becca,” Bucky says, reaching for Steve’s wrist and ending up grabbing his hand instead. 

“Your, uh, what?” He asks as Bucky pulls him away. 

“My sister, duh.” Bucky tows him through the crowd back to his table. “Becca! This is my new best friend Steve! Be nice to him.” 

“Oh my god, Bucky, what have I told you about accosting strangers?” Becca groans. 

“I wasn’t costing him anything,” Bucky pouts. Becca ignores him. 

“Thanks for bringing my brother back, and sorry you had to deal with him,” she says to Steve. 

“Oh, uh, I didn’t? He found the way back himself, and it was no trouble, really,” Steve says. “I’m Steve Rogers, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Steve. I’m Becca Barnes, twin sister to this airhead. His name is Bucky, in case you missed it.” 

“Hey,” Bucky protests. “M’not an airhead.” He glances at Steve and perks up. “Becca, Becca he’s got a star. You gotta give him my number.” 

“He what?” 

“I what?” 

Becca and Steve stare at each other for a minute, Becca’s eyes wide and Steve just plain confused, then Becca reaches into her purse and pulls out a business card and a pen. She scribbles something on the back and holds it out. “Here. There’s Bucky’s number on the back if you want it,” she says. “Even if you don’t want it, taking the card will get him out of your hair.” Bucky smiles when Steve takes the card. 

“The Sun and The Star?” Steve reads. 

“Bucky and I run a shop together. As long as you’re not allergic to cats, it’s a pretty nice place. Bucky practically lives in it.” 

“I do live in it,” Bucky says. 

“Yeah, okay, Bucky.” Becca sticks her tongue out even though Ma keeps telling her it’s childish. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Steve,” she says as she pulls Bucky down onto the seat beside her. 

“Ow, Becca, you’re pinching my arm,” Bucky whines. 

“Um...yeah. Nice to meet you too.” Steve bobs his head and then awkwardly shuffles away while Bucky is trying to free his arm from Becca’s clutches. Karen shows up at the table with another round of drinks, and for a little while, Bucky forgets all about Steve and his star. 

~

Bucky grumbles to himself as he gets out of bed the next morning. Someone left his curtains open and his window faces east; outside is full of horrible _sunlight_ and cheerfully chirping birds. He is somehow still wearing his jeans from the night before but has lost his shirt and shoes. Trying to run his fingers through his hair proves to be a mistake as he almost immediately gets caught in the knots of his bedhead. Once he’s freed his hand, he decides to ignore it for now and goes out into the rest of the apartment. 

“Becca?” Bucky asks. “You got coffee on?” 

“On the counter,” she says, flipping through a magazine on his couch. Bucky goes to get the mug that Becca had already poured for him; she knew his post-drinking routine well enough to time his exit from his bedroom within ten seconds. 

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Becca asks casually in a way that makes Bucky instantly suspicious. He clutches his mug closer and narrows his eyes. 

“What did you do?” He asks. 

“Oh no, dear brother, it’s about what _you_ did.” He can hear the smirk in her voice even if he can’t see her behind the couch. “You don’t remember tall, blond, and gorgeous?” 

Bucky stares into his coffee and has a vague recollection of a man fitting that description. 

“Did you find yourself a date?” He asks, raising his mug to take a sip. 

“Ugh, come _on_ , Bucky.” Becca sits up on the couch and waves a hand at him. The spell hits him like a slap, making him yelp and drop his coffee. Thanks to his own magic, it lands upright on the counter without breaking or spilling a drop. Then the memory rises up, of the man named Steve with a star over his head, and Bucky has to grab the counter to keep himself upright. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Bucky says. 

“It takes you a damn memory enhancer spell to make you remember your _soulmate_ ,” Becca grumbles, sliding back down the couch. 

“Holy SHIT, Becca!” Bucky abandons his coffee to stalk over to the couch. “You couldn’t just tell me?! Please tell me you got his number!” 

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ just to be extra obnoxious. Bucky groans and slides to the floor. “But I gave him yours.” 

Bucky pops back up. “You did?” 

“Yep, on one of our business cards.” 

Bucky slides over the back of the couch to kiss her cheek and hug her. 

“Ew, Bucky, get off!”

Bucky sits up and grins down at her irritated face. “So tell me about him. Tell me tell me tell meeeee.” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” Becca pushes him off and sits up. “He was with a hot redhead and two other blond dudes. One was shorter, and one was taller and had longer hair. All three had massive biceps. They could probably bench press us, the tall one maybe even both at the same time. The redhead looked like she could strangle someone with her thighs; I think I’d let her do it to me.” 

“You are so gay.” 

“Pot, kettle. Anyway, dreamboat Steve has really bright blue eyes and seemed kinda out of place. Either he’s never been to the club before, or he’s low-magic. Or both.”

“I don’t care, I’m going to seduce him.” 

Becca laughs. “Good luck with that! You know that seduction magic never works out well.”

“I’m not going to use the magic.”

“Then, how?” Becca raises an eyebrow. 

“I’m handsome enough. I’m...smart.” 

Becca snorts with laughter. “You sure about that?”

“Shut up. I’ll do it, just watch me. Last night you met my future husband.” With that, Bucky climbs back over the back of the couch and goes to retrieve his coffee. 

~

Steve has no idea what happened last night. He remembers, of course, but making sense of it? It just won’t happen. Natasha teased him about his new friend for the rest of the night, and Thor and Clint completely missed it because they were off getting more drinks, so he can’t ask them. 

Becca seemed awfully hung up on the star that Bucky mentioned. Instinct told Steve that it would be in his best interest to throw away the card. Instead he had tucked it into his pocket, and now it’s in his hand as he sits at his breakfast table. 

It’s a nice little card, in warm gold and brown. It proudly declares _“The Sun and The Star, for your basic magical needs”_ in a fancy slanted font, with the address, phone number, and hours below. Common sense says it’s a joke, but he’s just curious enough…

If nothing else, he wants to know what that star Bucky mentioned is supposed to mean. 

Bucky seemed pretty nice too, and Natasha encouraged him to make friends. 

His phone is in his hand and ringing before he’s consciously aware of making up his mind. Just before it rolls over to voicemail, someone answers with muffled swearing. 

“Hello?” Bucky asks breathlessly. 

“Um, hi, Bucky? This is Steve, from the club last night?” He says, wincing at his own hesitancy. 

“Steve! I’m glad you called,” Bucky says, sounding sincere. 

“Steve actually called? You didn’t scare him off?” Becca says in the background. Steve ignores it, sure a normal person wouldn’t hear her. 

“Shut up,” Bucky hisses at her. In his normal volume, he says, “So, uh, Steve, what can I do for you?” 

“Smooth,” Becca mocks. 

“Uh...I was wondering what you meant about the star thing last night?” Steve asks. 

“Oh yeah. We can meet up and I can explain it if you want? Maybe over coffee or…(shit, Becca, what time is it? Breakfast?) Or over brunch or something? My treat.” 

“Sure, that’s fine. I’m free all morning.” 

“Great! Do you know Maggie’s Diner on Broad street? They have the best eggs.” Bucky tuts when Steve says he doesn’t know it. “It’s great, I swear, you won’t regret it. Say, half an hour? Is that enough time to get there?” 

“At 10:30? That should be plenty of time,” Steve says after checking his watch. 

“Great! I’ll, uh, see you there, then!” Bucky says. 

“See you there,” Steve echoes. He pulls the phone away from his ear, and before he can hang up, he hears Bucky shout on the other end. 

“Becca, I have a brunch date! Take that!” 

Steve stares at the phone once he’s set it down, then looks at the business card again. He hopes he won’t regret this. 

~

Bucky is already at the diner when Steve gets there. He’s sitting at a table against the windows, clutching a mug in his hands, legs jiggling in place. His hair is pulled back in a messy bun and he’s wearing tight jeans and a long sleeved shirt that flatter his form and leaves his collarbones bare. When Steve gets closer, he can see how the blue of the shirt brings out the color of Bucky’s eyes, and that there’s some kind of tattoo peeking out of the neckline. He’s staring out the window, and his eyes pass right over Steve without hesitating, like he’s invisible. Steve frowns but enters the diner anyway. Bucky visibly perks up when he notices Steve and smiles. 

“Hey, Steve! I went ahead and got myself a coffee already, I hope that’s okay. My friend Amy works here, she said she’d bring menus when you showed up.” Bucky is still displaying nervous energy but he seems happy. 

“That’s fine,” Steve replies, sitting across from him. As soon as he sits, a waitress appears next to the table. 

“Hello! I’m Amy, I’ll be your waitress,” she says as she sets two menus on the table. “Can I get you something to drink while you decide?” 

“Um, I’ll just have coffee,” Steve says, thrown off by her speed. “Black?”

“Coming right up!” She grins at him and suddenly she’s over at the counter. Steve has no idea how anyone can move so fast without being enhanced. He starts to wonder if she is and just doesn’t bother to hide it. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Bucky says, getting Steve to turn back to him. Bucky’s grinning. “She’s always that fast. Better decide what you want, she’ll be back in a minute.” Steve obediently opens the menu and peruses the options. His eyebrows go up when he flips to a page titled “For super eaters!” Everything on the page has a high calorie count, and they all have the option to make it “endless” for a few more dollars. 

“Ready to order or do you need another minute?” Amy asks as she sets down a full coffee pot and a mug that doesn’t match Bucky’s. 

“Um, I’ll have the French toast platter?” He says, pointing to it. 

“How do you like your eggs?” Amy asks, scribbling away on her little notepad. 

“Over easy.” 

“And would you like to make that endless?” 

“Go ahead and do it, Amy,” Bucky says. “And I want the spinach and bacon omelette.” 

“Alright! I’ll be back with those soon!” Amy takes their menus and disappears again. 

“Sorry if I overstepped,” Bucky says. “If you don’t want more you don’t have to get it, it doesn’t make a difference to me. I get the friends and family discount here.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah. Maggie, the owner, is friends with my grandma, has been since they were babies. Plus my sister and I do odd jobs around the place, kind of maintain their kitchen equipment, things like that. Oh, also, some of the tea blends they sell here are ones that we make. Becca and I like growing our own tea plants, and the blends we make have gotten really popular both here and in our shop.” 

“So you make tea and kitchen equipment?”

“Well we don’t make the kitchen equipment, we just help keep it working smoothly. But the tea, yeah. Our shop is full of plants. We’re kind of...jacks of all trades. We do the tea, and there’s a section that’s kind of like a bookstore, and there’s yarn and craft stuff, but most of it’s tied in with the magic somehow.” Bucky refills his coffee, and then Amy is there dropping off their food. They both thank her, and it’s quiet for a few minutes while they tuck in. It is, as Bucky said, really good. 

Steve eyes him curiously over the table. Bucky mentioned magic just like the business card did. “What do you mean by magic?” he asks. 

Bucky hesitates and sets down his mug. He waves a hand and suddenly the rest of the diner seems just a bit more muffled. “My family is made up of witches,” he says seriously. “Has been for the last...five generations? But we mostly do small stuff. Big spells take a lot of energy. We do a lot of things like...making sure coffee never spills.” He sweeps his hand against his mug, and instead of tipping over, it slides to the edge of table and stops before it can fall over, balanced precariously but somehow safe. Bucky retrieves it and takes a sip. “Or making dishes clean themselves, or preventing ovens from overheating. Making sure clothes won’t get stained, or that the wind won’t ruin your hair.” 

Steve eyes him suspiciously. “Are you giving people magic tea?” 

“Yes, but the only spell on the tea is that it will always be brewed correctly. If people think it tastes better than other tea, that’s just because it hasn’t been made too strongly or too watery. Plus with natural, fresh ingredients, since as I said, we grow a lot of our own plants.” 

“Prove it,” Steve challenges, and Bucky’s eyebrows go up. He points across the diner. 

“You see Amy? Watch her for a minute.” 

Steve turns and looks at her. She’s standing at the counter, filling two mugs with coffee. He blinks, and she’s at another table, setting the mugs down. Then she’s instantly back at the counter, fetching creamer and spoons, and is back at the table. It all happens in seconds, and Steve has to rub his eyes, strained from trying to track her movements. He turns back to Bucky, who has pushed up his left sleeve and pulled down his neckline to reveal the tattoo there and one on his forearm. 

The tattoo on his collarbone is a sun with a face. As Steve watches, the sun yawns and smiles and extends its rays, shifting just slightly closer to the window and the actual sunlight. The tattoo on his forearm is a meteor shower, the stars actually shooting across his skin in a loop. 

Steve puts his hands over his face and props his elbows on the table. 

“I know it’s kind of a lot,” Bucky says. When Steve looks at him again, he’s put his shirt back to rights and is smiling wryly. “If I wasn’t raised in the magic, I wouldn’t believe some of it myself. But you wouldn’t even be able to see my tattoos move, or see Amy teleporting, or have gotten in the club last night if you didn’t have some magic in you too.” 

“You’re saying magic is real. Like in the fairy tales,” Steve says after a moment. 

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah.” 

While Steve tries to wrap his mind around that, Bucky returns to eating his food, and Steve follows his example. Even though it’s been a few minutes since they’ve touched it, it hasn’t gotten cold. Steve frowns at his plate and then up at Bucky, who gives him a sheepish smile. 

“Okay,” Steve says once he’s made a good dent in the breakfast foods. “The thing with the star last night. What was that about?” 

Bucky winces and sets down his fork. “Do you believe what I’ve told you, about magic?” 

“I haven’t decided yet, I want to think about it more.” 

“Okay.” Bucky sighs and runs his hand over his hair, managing not to mess it up. “So, people who have magic inside them have a way to find souls that are compatible with theirs. You know, like a soulmate. Sometimes they’re platonic, but a lot of times they can become romantic relationships. It’s how my mom met my dad, and my grandpa met my grandma. The way we find our soulmates, is we can see a star floating above their heads.” Bucky looks pointedly above Steve’s head, and then meets his eyes and smiles. 

“...You’re saying I’m your soulmate.” 

“One of ‘em, yeah.” 

Steve stares at him, and Bucky stares back. “How come I can’t see a star over your head, then?” 

“Your magic level isn’t very high; the star’s probably there, but faint enough to be hidden in all this bright sunlight, and covered up by the flashing lights in the club last night too.” 

“Say I believe you. What do we do next?” Steve asks. 

“Whatever you want,” Bucky says. “I just want to be your friend, Steve, but you have no obligations to me. You could walk away right now and never see me again and it wouldn’t affect you. Of course, that’s not what I want, because yours is the first star I’ve seen, and I’ve just turned 28 so my chances of finding another aren’t great, but it wouldn’t actually hurt me or anything.” 

“And that’s all you want from me? Friendship?” 

“Well...you are attractive, and I wouldn’t say no to dating if you asked, but yeah.” 

“You don’t want fame, or money, or anything?” Steve pushes. 

Bucky looks confused. “No? Why would I want that?” 

Steve stares at him. “Because I’m Captain America?” It comes out like a question, even though he didn’t mean for it to be. Bucky’s eyes go wide. 

“Oh, really?” he says. Steve braces himself for the usual reaction. “That makes so much sense!” Bucky says next, and what? “Did you know that just before they found you, all sea life in a 300 mile radius vacated the area? It was super weird, and the boat that was sent to investigate found you in the Valkyrie. We guessed magic was involved somehow but we never did figure it out.” 

Steve waits, but Bucky doesn’t say anything more. “That’s it?” 

“Yeah?” Bucky looks confused for a minute before his eyes soften. He sets his hand, palm up, in the middle of the table in offering. “Steve, in this place, you’re just another celebrity trying to have a life. I’m not gonna go running to the papers or post on the internet that I met Captain America. I might tell my sister, but she won’t tell anyone either. That’s your secret to share.” 

Steve has to put his face back in his hands after that to process. He feels shaky with the burst of adrenaline from telling someone and the relief from Bucky’s reaction. 

Both of them have finished their food by the time they speak again, and that’s because Amy comes to check on them. 

“Can I get another plate for you?” She asks Steve. 

“I’m not sure…” 

“Maybe one for the road?” Bucky says. Steve hesitates and then nods. Amy smiles and disappears. Steve refills his coffee from the pot on the table, and it’s still just as hot as it was when Amy first brought it to them. 

“So what happens now?” Steve asks. 

“Whatever you want, Steve. The cards are in your hands. You have our business card, you have my number. You could call, or show up, whenever you want. Or you could walk away and never contact me again. It’s up to you.” Bucky sounds a little sad as he says this, and he looks down at the table and turns his coffee mug in his hands, biting his lip. Steve watches him and sighs. Against his better judgement, he’s curious. 

“Can I come by your shop tomorrow?” he asks. Bucky sits up straight and grins, and it’s like the sunlight gets a few shades brighter. 

“Sure! Our hours are on the card, did you notice? You can come by anytime, even after we’re closed. I live in the apartment above the shop so I’ll notice if you ring the bell by the door. You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Bucky asks. 

“No?” 

“Good, because there’s a lot of them that hang around the shop.” 

Amy brings Steve’s boxed up meal and the bill, and Bucky pays even though Steve protests. 

“I’ve got it, really, Steve. You can get it the next time.” 

“Okay,” Steve agrees. Bucky grins at him. 

They make their way outside and stand there in awkward silence for a minute. 

“Well...I had a nice time. Thanks for meeting with me Steve, and for not running off when I told you the truth,” Bucky says, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Thanks for telling me the truth,” Steve replies. Bucky laughs a bit and rocks on his feet. 

“Alright, well...bye, Steve.” 

“Goodbye, Bucky.” 

Bucky takes a hand out of his pocket and gives Steve a short wave before turning and walking away. Steve turns in the other direction. When he gets to the corner, he glances back and sees Bucky watching him from down the block. He waves, Bucky waves back, and then Steve steps around the corner and heads home. He has a lot to think about. 

~

Becca’s had the store open and running for two hours by the time Bucky gets back. He holds the door open for old Mrs. Hathaway as she’s leaving, neatly dodges Mrs. Callahan and her daughter who she keeps trying to set him up with, steps over three cats, brushes a trailing vine out of his face, and slips behind the counter to take over the register from Becca, because Mr. Orwell is over in the craft section looking confused again and Becca knows more about that than he does. He smiles at their customers and starts ringing them through as quickly as he can while making idle chatter. Some of them ask what he’s been up to for the last hour, since he’s usually hanging around the shop even if he’s not working, seeing that he lives above it. A lot of their customers are regulars, and many of them are around his parents’ or grandparents’ age and have known him and Becca since they were kids. 

The morning rush dies down around lunchtime, and Becca flops against his back as Bucky takes payment from a shy teenager who comes in to buy their peppermint tea every other week. (If that kid ever asks if they’re hiring, Bucky’s giving them a job on the spot. They know the names and proper care of every plant in the shop.) 

“What do you want to do for lunch?” Becca asks his shoulder blade. Bucky peers around to make sure there are no customers in earshot before relaxing out of his customer service worker posture. 

“Oh my god, just order in a couple of meatball subs from that place down the street with the delivery boy who has a crush on you,” Bucky groans, stretching carefully so he won’t dislodge her. 

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” she replies with a half-hearted smack to his hip. Bucky shakes her off and she drops onto the couch they keep behind the counter, pulling out her phone to place an order. Once she’s done with that, she looks up at him. 

“So? Tell me how it went with dreamboat Steve,” Becca says. Bucky drops onto the couch next to her and looks around again. 

“He’s Captain America,” he says quietly. Becca’s mouth drops open. She had a crush on Captain America as a teenager just like half the country. She’d been excited when he’d been found alive, but then mostly decided to respect his privacy after the Battle of New York. She’d been close enough to see him in the aftermath of it, and she’d reported to the family that he’d looked tired and sad. She still followed most of the news about him, but hadn’t ever tried to meet him. 

“Seriously?” she asks. “Ugh, he even said his name was Steve _Rogers_! How did I miss it??” A moment later her brain clicks over into the same track of thought that he had. “That’s why the weird stuff happened in the ocean when he was found, it was the magic in him!” 

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Bucky agrees. 

“So wait, how’d he take it? The magic?” She sits up and turns sideways on the couch, crossing her legs, giving him her full attention. 

“He...could’ve taken it better? He had a hard time believing it. Asked for proof. I showed him my tattoos, and he could see them moving. He asked what I wanted from him when I told him about the soul star.” 

“That poor guy,” Becca murmurs. 

“Yeah. I told him I’m cool with just being his friend if he wanted, that I wouldn’t say no to dating if he was down for that, but that I’d be okay if he never wanted to see me again.” 

“And?” Becca’s eyes are big and she’s leaning in closer. 

“He said he might come by the shop tomorrow.” 

“Yes!” Becca cheers, startling four cats from their perches around the shop and making Bucky flinch away. A customer farther in the shop drops something. 

“I didn’t break it!” The customer calls. 

“I believe you!” Bucky calls back. 

The delivery boy enters the shop then, making heart eyes at Becca as she pays and takes the food. Bucky and Becca spend the next half hour going over every detail of the meeting with Steve while they eat their lunch, taking turns popping up to help customers who come up to the register. 

The early afternoon is the slowest part of their day, and then they get another rush from three to six, when people are getting out of school and work. They’re open until ten most nights, and midnight on some weekends. Occasionally they’ll ask for their sister Alice’s help for special holidays and events where they’ll stay open all night, but usually it’s just the two of them. Becca opens as early as she likes, but usually around eight on weekdays and ten on weekends. Bucky comes in around eleven to help with the morning rush and lets Becca nap on the couch behind the counter in the slow hours of the afternoon if she feels like it. Becca helps him get through the afternoon rush and usually takes off by six-thirty to go home, leaving Bucky to close by himself. It’s a system that works out well for them, ever since they took over the shop five years ago after they graduated college. 

The shop has been in the family for generations, though the purpose and name of it have changed over time. In their grandma’s time, it was strictly a craft store, full of ladies crocheting, knitting, quilting, and sewing. It was the gossip hub in their corner of Brooklyn, and Grandma Fischer ruled it with an iron fist, her steel-gray hair in an impeccable bun. Uncle Mark took a turn at running it and made it into half a bookstore, letting Grandma keep half for crafting. When Bucky and Becca took over, they made it one quarter craft store, one quarter bookstore, and half magic shop. (“And half cat shelter slash greenhouse,” as Alice says. Bucky and Becca always reply, “That doesn’t even make sense.”) 

They love running their shop. Becca was the one who suggested keeping the craft section, and Bucky loves books, so they made a system that they both made sure to learn, even if it isn’t their specialty. Making their own tea and growing their own plants was Becca’s idea; she figured out how to use her magic to check the condition of the soil and find out if the plants need water. Bucky’s magic keeps the pests off of them and brings as much sunlight as possible into the shop. When the season’s right for it, they’ll open their windows to bring in bees that someone in the neighborhood keeps. They brew and sell the tea right in their shop if people ask for it. 

Bucky attracts cats like flies to honey. He’s rarely seen around the shop without one or two draped across his shoulders and several more within petting distance. His magic keeps food and water bowls stocked around the shop. Becca hid a few litter boxes around the place, and her magic keeps them clean and smelling nice. 

Scattered between the bookshelves and among the craft corner are several pieces of comfortable furniture. Overstuffed armchairs mix with a couple oddly-patterned couches, and there’s even a few giant floor cushions. Absolutely none of the furniture matches, but they don’t care. More than once, a customer has fallen asleep in their shop. They’ve tried so hard to make it a warm, cozy, friendly place, every person they find asleep adds to a tally, written on a board in the storeroom in slanted handwriting among comments from their siblings, and it’s a mark of pride for them. 

Aside from all that, they sell their magic. Both of them can make charms to ward off bad luck, or they can enchant cups and bowls to never spill. They can even do wards to keep businesses and homes from being robbed or damaged in fire. And occasionally, by special request only, they can make potions. 

There’s a room in the back set up for it, but they don’t use it often. The only potions they make are the self-help variety. Their most popular one is the self-love potion; it fights depression, anxiety, and other nasties in the brain to build confidence and help people learn to love themselves again. There’s potions to give people a quick burst of courage for that presentation or interview they have to do, or to make that proposal or ask that question. There’s ones for peaceful dreaming and ones for dreamless sleep. 

But their charms are the most common. 

Bucky and Becca love their shop and their connections to the magical world. They wouldn’t give it up for anything. 

~

Steve approaches the shop with trepidation the next day. He’d spoken with Thor the night before and confirmed that magic was real, though Thor hadn’t heard of the soulmate star. He acknowledged that there were likely many differences between Asgardian magic and Earth magic, so he didn’t deny the possibility that Bucky was telling the truth. Thor had even offered to come with him to the shop, but Steve had declined, thinking that he needed to do this himself. 

He triple checks the address on the business card as he gets close, then tucks it back into his pocket. It turns out to be hard to miss; the windows are full of plants and several cats lounge on windowsills. He hustles to open the door for a gaggle of little old ladies who are approaching from the other direction. Most of them smile up at him and a few call him a nice boy. Steve smiles awkwardly and nods back, then follows them in. 

“Steve!” Bucky calls, grinning and waving at him from behind the register. “I’m kinda busy right now, but go ahead and have a look around and I’ll be with you in a bit!” Steve nods and waves his acknowledgement, watching as Bucky turns back to his current customer. It’s a man around their age holding a shy little girl. Bucky grins at the girl and makes a flower appear in his hand, getting the girl to giggle. Bucky tucks the flower behind her ear and sends them on their way. 

Steve makes his way further into the shop. There are plants and cats everywhere it seems. The group of old ladies he followed in headed straight to the back, where they have joined what looks like a sewing circle. He watches them for a few minutes as he wanders past and ends up surrounded by bookshelves. Each shelf is labeled with signs like “Magical Creatures” and “Fun Fiction”. He stops in front of a shelf labeled “Magical History” and, out of curiosity, pulls out a book that looks well loved and well cared for despite its apparent age. There is no title, the author’s name written as Dorothy Patterson Fischer, and the dedication page simply says “To make my in-laws finally shut up about me writing a book”. Steve snorts and can’t help grinning as he begins reading it. 

A few minutes have passed before he senses someone at his elbow. “Enjoying your reading?” A woman says. Steve turns to see Becca, Bucky’s sister, smiling at him. 

“Sorry. Am I not supposed to…?” 

“Oh no, no, go ahead,” Becca says. “That copy isn’t for sale, but we have others. That’s the original, and it’s one of Bucky’s favorite books ever. He’ll still be busy at the register for another half hour, and then we slow down around lunch time if you want to wait and read.” 

“Uh, yeah, that sounds nice, thanks,” Steve says, a little surprised. Becca gestures around them. 

“Pick a seat, any seat. The cats will move if you ask them nicely.” 

Steve looks around and sees three cats stretched out on the couch. In an armchair nearby, a man is fast asleep with two more cats on his lap. Becca lowers her voice and moves closer. 

“We think he’s homeless,” she says softly. “He comes in every few days to charge his phone and drink some tea and pet some cats. There’s enough magic soaked into this place by now that it’s seeped into the very fabric of the furniture. Anytime someone really needs the rest, a muffling spell springs up around them so that they can sleep peacefully while they’re here. It’s safe for them, and we don’t mind it.” She smiles up at Steve and takes a step back as someone calls her name from the sewing circle. “Enjoy the book, Steve,” she says before she goes. 

Steve watches her crouch down in the sewing circle to listen to the women. He decides to leave the cats where they are and takes an empty armchair. He’s ten pages into the book when he, too, falls asleep. 

~

Bucky slumps and runs his hand over his face when he’s finally done with the last customer in line. There’s still a handful of customers in the store, but Becca has been around to them and reported that none of them are ready to check out yet. He sighs and props his elbows on the counter. 

“I haven’t seen Steve in a while. Did he leave?” Bucky asks quietly, preparing himself to be disappointed. Becca gets a small, funny smile on her face. 

“Actually, he’s fallen asleep in the green armchair,” she says. 

Bucky blinks at her. “ _Really?_ ” He cranes his head around and can just barely see Steve’s arm and one foot around a bookcase. “Huh. How long has he been like that?” 

“Like half an hour? I went and marked the page he was on and closed the book. He didn’t even stir. He must really need the rest if the chair made him fall asleep so quickly.” Becca looks a little sad on Steve’s behalf. 

“What do we do?” Bucky asks. 

Becca looks thoughtful. “I say we leave him there and order in extra lunch for him and Mr. David, he’s in the red paisley chair again.” 

“Good idea. Thai?” 

“Thai,” Becca confirms, already pulling out her phone. Bucky, too tired to bother straightening up, slides his arms down the counter as he walks to where he can see Steve better. His head’s cranked back at what looks like an uncomfortable angle. The book he was reading is propped on one leg, and there’s a calico cat sprawled across his lap who’s holding the book in place with one of her paws so it won’t fall. Bucky smiles and props his chin on his hand, taking the chance to study Steve in the warm light of the shop. 

“Stargazing?” Becca asks at his shoulder, a smirk in her voice. 

“I want to marry him,” Bucky sighs. Becca snorts, and he turns to look at her. “Don’t even say it. I know we’ve only known each other for like a day and a half, but I can tell he’s a good guy. When I was telling him about the magic, he asked if there was magic in the tea and he was all suspicious, like he thought we were drugging people or something. And he was really nice at the club even though I was drunk and clingy. I can tell he’s got his walls up, but like...the guy lost his whole world in a moment, and people have already tried to take advantage of him in the year or so he’s been awake, so I don’t blame him. Mostly I just think he needs a really good hug…” Bucky looks at Steve for a moment and then turns back to Becca with a small frown. “What was the question again?” 

Becca laughs at him. “The food will be here soon. You want to go grab plates and stuff from upstairs?” 

“That wasn’t the question, was it?” 

Becca just keeps laughing at him. Bucky grumbles and gives her a half hearted shove as he goes past her to the door that hides the stairs up to his apartment. They always keep the door locked during business hours so customers can’t go up there, and they both have a key. Bucky retrieves four water bottles from his fridge, and enough plates and silverware for four people. He manages to juggle it all as he heads back down, and Becca takes the plates and silverware from him so he can lock the door again. They arrange it in the empty spot beneath the counter where they sometimes keep snacks, and then Bucky goes over to the register. Miss Bridges is standing there, watching them with some amusement. She went to school with their dad and has kids their age. 

“Planning a party?” She asks as she hands money over for the pre-made charm in her hand. 

“Just hoping we might have some friends join us for lunch,” Bucky replies with a smile. 

“Have fun,” she says with a wink before she leaves. 

The delivery boy from the Thai place walks in a minute later. This one is almost too young to have a crush on Becca, but he still grins at her when she talks to him. The place they order from is a family business, so on days when the weather’s right and there’s no school, this kid does local deliveries on his bike. Bucky thinks he’s only about twelve. Becca tips the kid and sends him on his way, and then they sort through the bags he’s brought. 

They each have a favorite, and they set those ones aside while deliberately leaving out the chicken-and-cashews one that Mr. David likes, along with a container of fried rice. Bucky sets a water bottle out, and the rest of it gets tucked away below the counter. The two of them flop onto the couch to eat. After a few minutes, Mr. David approaches the counter, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Having lunch?” He says, eyeing the containers. 

“Yeah! Becca ordered way too much though, we could never eat it all. Do you want some, Mr. David?” Bucky asks innocently. Mr. David eyes them like he knows what they’re doing. He checks the label on one and raises an eyebrow. 

“Don’t think I don’t notice you kids order stuff I like whenever I’m here,” he says, shaking a finger at them and pulling the container closer. “But I’ve got a job interview today, so I can’t stay.” 

“Oh, that’s great!” Becca shoves her plate at Bucky and stands up, quickly sticking both containers and the water in a plastic bag and holding it out to Mr. David. “Go ahead and take it, really.” She digs around beneath the counter and finds one of those disposable sets of plastic silverware in a plastic sleeve that also comes with a napkin and salt and pepper. She adds it to the bag and smiles at him. Mr. David chuckles and takes the bag. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes, okay?” He says. 

“Okay. Good luck!” They call simultaneously. He waves to them and leaves the shop, one of his cat friends following him out. Steve comes up to the counter a few minutes later, blinking and looking confused. 

“Have a good nap?” Becca says teasingly. Steve’s face goes slightly pink and Bucky feels something inside him lurch. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep,” Steve says. 

“Oh it’s no problem,” Becca says. “Do you want to join us for lunch? We have plenty.” 

Steve looks like he wants to refuse, but curiosity gets the better of him. “What is it?” 

“Thai food. Have you ever had it?” Becca asks. Steve shakes his head and then pauses. 

“Well, maybe once?” 

“Come on, come join us.” Becca beckons him around the end of the counter, and Bucky scoots over on the couch to make room. Steve sits down pressed against the arm of the couch, radiating awkwardness, and Becca hands him a fork and a plate loaded with small amounts of everything. She takes her own plate back from Bucky and flops against him, and he puts his right arm around her to make room. Steve watches them as they all begin eating. 

“You two seem close,” he says after a minute. 

“Oh yeah. Womb to tomb,” Becca says and takes a bite. 

“What does that mean?” Steve asks. Becca waves a hand, busy chewing. 

“We mentioned we’re twins, right?” Bucky takes over. Steve nods. “Womb to tomb means you’ll be friends from birth to death. With us it goes a little deeper, since we’ve been together literally since the beginning of our existence. We don’t live together, but we can’t live without each other. Do you understand?” 

“I think so,” Steve says, staring down at his plate. Becca elbows Bucky and frowns up at him, and Bucky shrugs back helplessly. 

“So, Steve, who were your friends at the club with you the other night? They looked hot,” Becca says. 

“Um.” Steve shifts, looking slightly uncomfortable. “They were some of my teammates. Thor, Hawkeye, and Black Widow.” 

“And the redhead, is she single?” Becca asks. 

“What?” Steve looks straight at Bucky, who raises both hands in surrender. 

“Not for him, for me. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a date,” Becca says with a melodramatic sigh. 

“You? Want to date -- Natasha?” Steve says, stumbling over the words. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?” Becca asks. Bucky tightens his arm around her shoulders protectively, and doesn’t miss the way Steve notices it. 

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with it, I just. I don’t know if she’s the dating type? I don’t know if she’s available,” he rushes to say. 

“Bummer.” Becca sighs again and flops back against the couch. The conversation is interrupted by a customer, who Bucky gets volunteered to go help. When he turns back, Steve’s plate is empty. 

“Do you want some more?” He offers. “We have plenty, really.” 

“If you don’t take it, Bucky will end up eating it for breakfast tomorrow, and that’s bad for his heart,” Becca says earnestly. Steve chuckles and accepts Bucky’s offer. They let him pick through what’s left, making note of what he takes more of and what he avoids. The food is demolished in short order, and Bucky and Becca takes turns ducking upstairs to brush their teeth and put dirty dishes in the sink for Bucky to take care of later. Steve stands awkwardly in front of the couch, and Bucky smiles at him. 

“Did you like the shop?” He asks. 

“Yeah, it’s um. It’s nice,” Steve says, looking around. “Very friendly.” 

“Good. That’s what we try for.” 

“Feel free to come back anytime,” Becca says. “Half the company was really great.” She winks at Steve as Bucky protests. Steve chuckles. 

“I don’t know, I think it was all pretty great,” he says as he grins at Bucky. Bucky _definitely_ doesn’t blush as he grins back. “Well. I should let you guys get back to work. Thanks for lunch.” 

“Thanks for joining us,” Bucky and Becca say together before rolling their eyes. Steve smiles and turns to go. Right before he reaches the door, he pauses, and then turns back. 

“Actually, could I get a copy of that book?” 

~

Steve’s walk home is full of thoughts about both Bucky and Becca. They seemed genuinely welcoming and friendly, and did their best to make him comfortable in their shop. The way he saw and heard them interacting with other customers tells him that it wasn’t just an act. He’s kind of envious of their relationship, having never had siblings himself. His teammates aren’t anywhere close to that, most of them more like coworkers than actual friends. The Commandos were almost a family to him. He misses that feeling, and hasn’t been able to find it among the Avengers. He finds himself wanting something like that again and wondering, if what Bucky has said is true, if he might actually be able to have it some day. 

~

Steve arrives at the Tower the next day still thinking about everything. Tony has called him in to test something, and said it was urgent. Bruce meets him in the elevator with a small smile. 

“Something on your mind, Steve?” He asks. Steve decides to throw caution to the wind. 

“Do you know anything about magic?” Steve asks. 

“Magic?” Bruce repeats, brow furrowed in confusion. “No, can’t say that I do. Any particular reason?” 

Steve blows out a breath. “A few days ago I met someone who claims to be able to do magic, and says that there is some inside me as well. He and his sister both seem to be good people, and it doesn’t seem like they’re lying, but I’m still having a hard time believing it.” 

Bruce makes a thoughtful noise. “Have you talked to Thor about it? Asgard reportedly has magic.” 

“I have, and he said he couldn’t verify it because magic on Asgard is different from here.” 

“I suppose you could try asking SHIELD?” Bruce sounds as hesitant about it as Steve feels, and he huffs when Steve slants a look his way. “Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to ask them either.” 

“Yeah. So I’m kind of at a loss for what to do.” 

Bruce frowns. “I could always take a look if you like? Compare your blood sample to mine and try to spot the differences?” 

Steve smiles at him. “It’s worth a try. Thanks, Bruce.” 

The elevator opens before they can say anything more, depositing them on Tony’s floor. Tony and Pepper are there, already talking a mile a minute. Pepper shoots them a smile. 

“What took you so long, Capsicle? Did you decide to walk from Brooklyn?” Tony says. Steve barely keeps from rolling his eyes. 

“The train was delayed, Tony,” Steve says. “A section of the track was closed.” 

“Ew, public transportation.” Tony gives a dramatic shudder and walks over to get a drink from the kitchen. Pepper rolls her eyes at him. 

“You got here safely though,” she says. Steve nods and then catches a pointed look from Bruce. 

“Do you know anything about magic?” Steve asks them. 

“Magic is just science that hasn’t been explained yet,” Tony says promptly, gesturing with his glass before he fills it. 

“Sorry, no. Why do you ask?” Pepper says. 

“I...went to a bookshop the other day that had a section labeled ‘magical history’. The books appeared to be treated as nonfiction,” Steve says. It’s true, even if it doesn’t match what he told Bruce. He doesn’t want to mention Bucky around Tony when he’s already got that kind of attitude about magic. 

“Someone needs to get their brain checked at that shop,” Tony says, proving Steve’s point. Bruce pats him on the shoulder and goes to get a drink himself. Pepper sends him another smile as she takes a phone call and walks over to the glass wall. 

“What did you need me for again, Tony?” Steve asks, already tired from the interaction. He thinks back to the nap he had at the magic shop yesterday, and how good he felt afterwards. 

“I made some new Avengers-strength kevlar for your suits. Wanna come down to the lab and test it out?” 

“That’s what you call urgent?” Steve asks. He came all the way to Manhattan for kevlar? 

“Safety’s important, Cap,” Tony says. “Can’t have America’s sweetheart bleeding out on live television.” Steve bristles at the nickname, but Pepper returns before he can say anything. 

“Tony, be nice,” she scolds. 

“I am being nice!” Tony protests. 

Pepper rolls her eyes and takes him by the arm, tugging on his elbow. “Don’t forget you have a meeting in an hour. You should probably make this quick.” She glances at Steve, who sighs. 

“Alright, I’ll try out your kevlar, Tony,” he says. 

Half an hour later he leaves the Tower fed up with Tony’s “prototypes” and with no answers to his questions.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the wonderful comments!!

As he’s walking away from the Tower, Steve suddenly realizes he’s being followed. Before he can do more than tense up, however, a small hand hooks around his elbow, and he glances down to see Natasha smiling up at him. He relaxes fractionally and nods at Clint, standing at her other side. 

“Rough day?” Natasha asks, subtly guiding him through the crowd, Clint trailing along in their wake. 

Steve sighs and rubs the back of his neck before gesturing. “ _Tony_ ,” he says, as if that explains everything, and Natasha nods as if it does. 

“Come on, we’ll take you out for lunch.” 

The place they take him is small and cozy. Natasha goes up to the front counter to order for them as Clint steers him to a table in the back, away from most of the other customers. The booth they sit in is teal, and the table, for some reason, is a light pink. Clint ushers him into the seat and then sits next to him so Steve is against the wall and partly hidden by him. Steve startles when Clint puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t let Tony get to you,” he says quietly, voice sounding scratchy. “He does it on purpose sometimes just to get a reaction.” 

Steve sighs and wills his shoulders to drop from the high position the tension is keeping them in. “I know. I try, but it’s like he knows just what to say to get under my skin, and then he keeps digging.” 

“Yeah. I’ve known guys like that before. You just gotta toughen up. You can always just walk away if it gets to be too much,” Clint says. His hand is still on Steve’s shoulder. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve says. Natasha approaches then and sits on the bench across the table. She slides a tray of sandwiches and drinks over to them. 

“I called ahead,” she says before Steve can ask how she got the food so fast. She sips daintily from the straw in her own drink, something clear with carbonation and a wedge of lime on the rim. Clint lets Steve take first pick, but he doesn’t want to be rude so he just grabs the one closest to him. It turns out to be roast beef, which isn’t his favorite. Steve mourns the loss of the warmth when Clint removes his hand to grab his own food, but as if Clint can read his mind, he presses his shoulder against Steve’s to replace it. Steve wonders if Clint _can_ actually read his mind, and then wonders if he’s going to spend his whole life second guessing about who can and can’t do magic. 

“Before you ask, I’m not magic,” Clint says after glancing around to make sure no one’s paying attention to them. Steve frowns at him. 

“He’s not reading your mind,” Natasha says. Steve turns his frown on her. 

“Are you reading my mind?” he asks. She just raises an eyebrow and smirks. 

“She’s not reading your mind, she’s reading your _face_. You’re being kind of obvious about it right now,” Clint says, sipping his drink. Steve glares at the both of them in response and Clint chuckles into his glass before setting it down. “I first encountered magic in the circus, when I was five. There were fortune tellers and magicians, and of course everyone knew their magic was fake, because magic doesn’t exist, right? But some of it was real. And some people in the circus would use magic to scam other people. They tried to teach it to me, but it turns out I can’t do magic at all. Not like they can, or Nat, or you.” 

“So you can do magic,” Steve says to Natasha. 

“Yes, but it’s limited. Nowhere near as powerful as your new friend,” she says casually. 

“What can you do? How did you find out about it?” 

“I can influence probability, make small shields, and read people’s intent. I’m also slightly stronger and faster than the average human.” She toys with her straw for a moment. “It’s a result of what the Red Room did to me. The Black Widows were given a serum developed by a Hydra scientist named Arnim Zola.” Steve goes tense at the name. Arnim Zola is very familiar to him. Natasha nods and continues. “I’m the only one that survived it. The magic was an integral part of that serum, but it wasn’t as strong as they’d hoped. Not as strong as what you recieved.” 

“What I received?” Steve echoes. Natasha nods solemnly. 

“A woman named Dorothy Fischer studied Doctor Abraham Erskine’s notes and confirmed that he used magic in his serum. Zola tried to replicate it but ultimately was unable to make the same pure strain.” 

“So you’re saying, I can do everything you can do, but more?” Steve asks. 

“Anything you can do I can do better,” Clint sings into his glass, snickering at himself. Natasha doesn’t roll her eyes but Steve can tell she wants to. 

“Yes, Steve. Your powers are stronger than mine, but you’ve been subconsciously suppressing your own awareness of them. As a result, you haven’t yet tapped into your full potential. It’s possible you can do more than I can, but it’s been buried inside of you so I couldn’t say for sure.” 

Steve gives up on his sandwich and stares down at the table, trying to absorb it all. “This is all a little hard to believe,” he says eventually. 

“Yeah it is,” Clint agrees. “But you don’t have to do anything with it today. Just let it stew for a while, and you’ll come to see the truth of it yourself.” 

Natasha smiles at him. “Clint or I will be around if you ever want to talk about it.” 

After he leaves the cafe, his phone buzzes with a text. 

_Bruce: No new results in the blood samples so far. Sorry :(_

~~

Steve enters The Sun and The Star about an hour after it opens. He waves to Becca, who waves back from her position behind the register, and heads to the book corner to read. He comes to a stop when he rounds the shelves. There’s a kid in a gray Columbia hoodie in his chair, head tilted back and fast asleep. He’s got messy brown hair, glasses on his face, and a textbook and notebook on his lap, knees spread to support them. There’s still a pencil held loosely in his hand. He looks vaguely familiar, though Steve is sure he’s never seen the guy before. 

Steve frowns and heads back to the front. “Hey, Becca?” he asks. 

“Yeah Steve?” She turns from where she’s doing inventory and smiles at him. 

“There’s someone sleeping in the back again,” Steve says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, is Bobby asleep in your chair?” She starts to come around the counter to check. 

“You know him?” Steve asks, turning to keep facing her. 

“Yeah, he’s our brother.” She moves to the corner and peeks around a shelf and then comes back. “He’s studying European History and Politics at the Graduate Schools of Arts and Science at Columbia University, with a minor in Germanic Languages.” 

Steve feels his eyebrows go up. “Wow, that sounds like a lot. How’s he doing?” 

Becca beams at him for the question. “He’s doing really well. We’re all very proud of him. We all kind of trade off making sure he eats and sleeps, and he’s here because it’s my turn today. He still lives with Ma and Dad, but there he can hole up in his room and then he won’t sleep, just study. There’s still a lot of magic in the walls at home, just like here, but there it’s more about warmth and comfort and safety, and here the chairs are all about the sleeping.” 

Steve nods and glances back towards him. “How old is he?” 

“Twenty...three? He’s five years younger than me and Bucky, but his birthday’s in August.” Becca goes back behind the counter to continue her inventory. “For his last birthday he asked for a map of Europe as it was before the World Wars in the form of a puzzle, a book on the teutonic knights, and an atlas globe of old trade routes that was actually a lamp. He’s such a nerd,” she says fondly. “You can go ahead and go read if you want, that is if you don’t mind using a different chair.” There’s laughter in her eyes as she teases him. Steve rolls his eyes and smiles. 

“At least no one will notice me in that bright orange and brown monstrosity.” 

Becca gasps. “Don’t insult Helga that way, she’s sensitive.” 

Steve chuckles as he heads back to the corner. He peruses the shelves until he finds a likely looking book and then sits in the orange chair, leaving the red one free and avoiding the couches. The book is hard to sink into, and without meaning to, Steve finds himself studying Bobby. He’s the first Barnes relative that Steve has met, or rather seen. The cuffs of his sleeves look a bit dirty, but otherwise his hoodie looks well taken care of. His glasses have left marks on his nose and around his eyes from pressing them closer, but now they’ve slid down the bridge of his nose a bit. His books and pencil don’t seem in any danger of falling. He’s wearing faded jeans and scuffed tennis shoes, and his bag looks like it’s about to split at the seams. Inside it are another few textbooks, more notebooks, and another book that has a label carefully taped to the front that says ‘Grandma Dottie’s book’ and nothing else. 

One of the shop cats, a gray tabby, comes over and weaves between Bobby’s legs for a moment before jumping up onto the arm of the chair. His tail flicks side to side as he stares at Bobby, and then he reaches out one paw and sets it on Bobby’s cheek. Bobby’s eyes slide open as if he’s only just closed them, and Steve busies himself with the book so he won’t be caught staring. Bobby groans and stretches at the corner of his vision, then sighs and slumps back in the chair. 

“Are you Steve?” he asks, and he sounds a lot like Bucky. 

“Yes?” Steve says, looking up. The gray tabby is now stretched across his shoulders, eyes closed and purring contentedly as Bobby scratches behind his ears. 

“I’m Bobby,” he says, extending a hand. Steve sits up and reaches over to shake it. “Bucky and Becca’s younger brother, but Becca’s probably told you that already, as well as what I’m majoring in.” 

Steve chuckles and sits back again. “She has, yes.” 

“For people who are magic, they’re really bad at keeping secrets,” Bobby says with a roll of his eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if half of New York knew, but somehow they don’t.” 

“You don’t sound like you have a very high opinion about them.” 

“Oh no, no, don’t get me wrong, I love them to death, but they don’t know how to stop talking. Bucky hasn’t shut up about you since you first came to the shop, and Becca started up too, soon after. I’m a tired college kid, and it’s hard to do my homework when they’re always blowing up my phone.” 

“Blowing up...?” Steve questions. 

“Means they’re calling or texting me a lot. So my phone’s like constantly going off. It gets irritating when I’m trying to focus,” Bobby explains. 

“Ah, that makes sense.” Steve nods thoughtfully. 

“Bucky hasn’t introduced you to that term yet?” 

“Uh, no, he hasn’t.” 

“He’s slacking off, then.” Bobby re-situates himself in the chair and closes his notebook, sticking that inside the textbook before closing that too and setting them aside. “You got a phone, right? You want my number?” 

Steve sits back, surprised. “Why? You only just met me.” 

“Yeah, but the twin terrors have been telling me so much I feel like I know you. You’re like…” he waves his hand. “Special. I promise I won’t hand out your number. But you’re basically learning another dialect here, right? It’s like trying to go to England and instantly use all their slang and different terms for stuff.” 

Steve thinks back to his brief time in England during the war. “Yeah, it...kind of is.” 

“Gotta be unsettling, right? Being home, recognizing most of the buildings, but not recognizing the English.” 

Steve nods, feeling uncomfortable. 

“Right. So. Anytime you don’t understand a word or a phrase, you can ask me about it, no judgement. I may not always answer right away, but I _will_ always answer.” Bobby digs in his bag and pulls out a strip of some kind of thick padded fabric, hooking a loop in one end over his thumb and wrapping the rest around his wrist before sticking the other end to itself with some velcro. He sighs and continues petting the cat. 

“You...wouldn’t mind doing that?” Steve asks. Bobby shrugs. 

“I already do it for like a dozen different people. I’m in a lot of language classes, and a bunch of my classmates are people who aren’t from America and speak English as a second or third language. Sometimes I have to ask them what something they’ve just said means.” 

“Oh, okay. Well….That would be nice, thank you.” 

“No problem. I promise not to be an asshole about it. Tony Stark seems like he’d be the kind to use words you don’t understand on purpose to try and bug you, and then never explain them,” Bobby says. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty true,” Steve agrees. “You uh, you don’t seem fazed by the whole…” 

“Captain America thing?” Bobby fills in. Steve nods, and Bobby...scoffs? “You’re just another celebrity, dude, not everyone goes gaga over famous people. I mean, yeah, you’re a great person, but if I could choose to meet anyone from history, you’re not even in my top ten. No offense or anything.”

“Who _is_ in your top ten?” Steve asks, too curious to be offended. Maybe even a little relieved. 

Bobby pauses and eyes him for a minute, and his voice is soft when he answers. “Abraham Erskine,” he says, and Steve’s breath catches at the unexpected answer. “Have you read Grandma’s book?” The non sequitur throws him off balance, and he nods. “She grew up in your community, knew who you were before you got big. She’s got this theory that there was some magic in the serum that Dr Erskine gave you. He came from Germany, right? And that’s where our family came from too, so maybe she saw something a little familiar in it. I mean, he was Jewish, and their rules and stuff are different, but...maybe a little similar.”

Steve sits quietly for a few minutes, running a hand through his hair and trying to wrap his mind around it all. “Bucky did say there was some magic in me,” he says finally. 

“That could be what it is, yeah,” Bobby says quietly. After a moment, he asks, “You want me to change the subject?” 

“Please.”

“That’s cool. I noticed you noticing my wrap here.” He holds up his wrist. “It’s a wrist brace. I write a lot working on my degree, and it makes my wrist hurt sometimes. Putting the brace on helps relieve that pain. Uncle Eddie spelled it for me, so it goes hot and cold. Feels real nice. Uncle Eddie specializes in healing magic; he’s a doctor.” 

“Do you always go into business with something related to your magic?” Steve asks. 

“Well, a lot of us do, yeah. As a doctor, Uncle Eddie can help people heal faster without being noticed. If he wasn’t a doctor and he just walked around healing people, it’d gain a lot of attention. Uncle Mark knows how to preserve books and make them last for ages; after he sold the shop to Bucky and Becca, he moved on to strictly doing restoration of old, rare, sometimes even first editions. Bucky attracts cats like he’s made of catnip, which means he’s got a lot of extremely well behaved strays that follow him around, but you don’t see him running an actual pet shelter, or a greenhouse with his plant thing. And Dad does tech magic, he could be working for Apple, but he’s content mixing up being a house husband with repairing printers and things. So you never know.” Bobby shrugs and looks up as someone enters the book corner and goes straight to a shelf. Steve bites his tongue against the questions that he wants to ask. Somehow it’s different talking to Bobby than talking to Becca or Bucky. 

“So, your names all start with B. Did your parents do that on purpose?” he asks instead. Bobby snorts. 

“No, they’re all nicknames. None of our names actually start with B.” He shoves his bag under the chair and stands to walk to the front, and Steve follows. “Only Bucky’s middle name starts with B, that’s where he got his.” 

“My name’s actually Rebecca,” Becca says when they get to the counter, having heard Bobby’s last sentence. “Bobby’s is Robert, and Bucky’s is James Buchanan.” 

Steve frowns in confusion. “Like the president?” he asks. Bobby moves to get himself some tea from the pot on the counter. 

“Betrayal!” Bucky cries from the front doorway. Steve jumps, but Bobby doesn’t even spill a drop. “You guys know how I feel about that name, no fair telling Steve!” 

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Becca and Bobby say in unison. Bucky groans and slumps over to the counter with a couple bags in his hand. 

“Alice is my favorite sibling, I want to trade you guys in.” 

“Too late,” Becca sings back at him. 

“Do you see what I put up with?” Bucky asks, turning to Steve. 

“It’s terrible,” Steve says, trying to hide a smile. 

“You’re all against me. I’m gonna go hide in my room.” 

“Try not to sulk too long,” Bobby says. Bucky sticks his tongue out at his siblings and heads through a door that Steve knows leads up to his apartment. 

“He’ll be back down in a few minutes, he’s just putting away his groceries,” Becca says. “Then you two can canoodle on the sofa, if that’s what you’re planning.” She winks at him, and Steve looks away before he can blush. Bobby eyes him knowingly over his cup. Even the gray tabby on Bobby’s shoulder seems to be smirking at him. 

“I’m with Bucky, you’re all terrible,” Steve says. Bobby and Becca are still laughing when Bucky comes back downstairs. 

“You guys are mean,” Bucky says. “Come on, Steve, let’s go get brunch. Bobby can help Becca run the store if they’re gonna be brats.” He drags Steve outside before his siblings can protest. 

“They weren't bothering you too much, were they?” Bucky asks. 

“No, not really,” Steve answers. “Actually, I had a pretty interesting conversation with Bobby today.” 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky smiles at him. “What did you two talk about?” 

Over their food, Steve tells him the main points of the conversation and the offer Bobby made about texting him. Bucky says he appreciates that his siblings haven’t scared Steve off. 

“I’m glad I’ll get the chance to get to know you,” he says. 

Steve doesn’t know what to think of that. 

~~

Over the next few months, Steve comes to hang out at the shop frequently. First, just two times a week, then three, four, and then, eventually, he’s there almost every day. He doesn’t always hang out with Bucky. Actually, Bucky is the one he spends the least amount of time with for the first month. Instead Steve meets and gets to know all the Barnes siblings. He and Bobby talk about modern slang and language differences, when Bobby’s not busy with his homework. Becca catches him up on all the neighborhood and family gossip, and ropes him into watering plants and feeding cats, and other things he’s sure she’s capable of doing herself (he saw her lift a plant up to a high ceiling hook with her magic, she shouldn’t need his help to get a book down from the top shelf). Alice, when he meets her, proves to be refreshingly funny, telling jokes he understands and teasing her siblings relentlessly. They take it in good humor. Bobby mostly rolls his eyes while Becca and Bucky tease back. 

Alice’s hair is darker than the others’, dyed black, and cut and styled so that it falls sharp against her cheeks and frames her face, cascading straight and intentionally messy over her shoulders. It’s all artfully done, and makes Steve’s fingers twitch to draw. She is remarkably perceptive and notices his twitching fingers. 

“You an artist of some kind?” She asks, nodding at his hands. 

“Oh, uh. Yes, I draw,” he says. She smiles at him with lips painted such a dark red, it’s almost black. 

“Go ahead and draw if you like. Aside from the customers, everything is free game. That is, if the cats will deign to hold still for you.” 

Becca’s head pops up from behind the counter, hands still busy organizing something. “We know we have nice faces,” she says with a smirk. “It’s usually flattering if people want to put us in art. Bobby doesn’t mind, and Bucky will just blush.”

“He posed for art students during college, but he never really got over his body shyness,” Alice says. 

Most of what Steve knows about Bucky has come in the form of tidbits like that from his siblings. He attentively records them in a small notebook similar to the one containing his List. Among them are things he’s noticed himself, such as what he thinks Bucky’s favorite color is, and what foods he won’t touch with a ten foot pole. 

With permission from Alice and Becca, Steve starts to draw the shop, the shop cats, and the Barnes siblings. He catches Becca mid motion helping a customer, Alice leaning over the counter to smile at a kid who stares at her, starstruck. Bobby is mostly asleep or studying in his drawings. Steve works on a family portrait for a while, catching separate poses and working them into one picture. Becca kisses his cheek when he gives it to her, and the next day it’s in a frame on the wall behind the register. 

It’s been two months before Steve does a complete solo drawing of Bucky. He’s silhouetted against the window, the light shining through his hair, illuminating his face and reflecting in his eyes. He’s smiling, face crinkled with his joy, and Steve is quick to capture it on paper. Partway through, Bucky catches him looking, and gives him a bashful smile. Something inside Steve flips and he thinks, _oh_. 

_Oh, that’s unexpected._

~~

They’ve become better friends in all the time Steve has spent at the shop. It’s gotten to the point that Bucky and Steve can spend time together just the two of them without feeling uncomfortable or needing a buffer in the form of Bucky’s siblings. Of course, sometimes Steve does enjoy their company. This morning, all four siblings are gathered in the shop when Steve walks in. They’re clustered around the counter, and Bucky and Becca both have their backs to him. Stifling a giggle, he creeps up behind them. Alice notices him and smiles but keeps their attention on her. Steve gets right up behind them, and then grabs their sides right where he knows they’re ticklish, shouting “Boo!” at the same time. 

The twins both shriek and jump, spinning to face him. Becca ends up half sitting on the counter from jumping. “Steve!” They shriek in unison, reaching out to smack his arms and shoulders. Steve laughs and raises his arms to fend them off, ducking away. 

“I couldn’t resist!” he says. 

“You’re a jerk,” Bucky says, Becca nodding in agreement. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Make it up to you?” He holds his arms out for a hug. Becca relents first, sliding close. Steve gets a glimpse of the odd look on Bucky’s face, but then he’s got Becca trapped in his arms and he uses the advantage to tickle her again. Becca shrieks and laughs and eventually squirms away, slapping at him. 

“You’re a menace!” she says, taking refuge behind the counter and Alice. Steve chuckles and looks at Bucky. There’s something strange in his eyes, his face slightly pinched as he forces out a few laughs. Something squirms in Steve’s belly, making him want to get closer to Bucky, but Bobby distracts him with a question about the book he’s been reading. He shelves the thought for later as Bucky’s face smoothes out and he moves closer, leaning against the counter next to Bucky. 

They have to shuffle out of the way when a customer comes up, stepping closer to the door and pressing their shoulders against the window. Some kind of fern-looking plant hangs above Steve’s head, and he brushes the fronds away to look at Bucky. 

“Hey. Do you want to go get brunch?” he asks quietly. Bucky glances over and smiles. 

“Sure. Let me just let Becca know I’m going,” he says. Steve nods and Bucky slips behind the counter. He whispers in Becca’s ear for a minute until she nods, then he tickles her quickly and darts away while she’s still shrieking. 

“James Barnes you are in so much trouble!”

Bucky laughs and grabs Steve’s arm, towing him out of the shop to safety, and then just keeps holding onto his arm as they hurry down the block. Steve finds that he likes the contact, but it could be better. He gently takes Bucky’s wrist and pushes down until Bucky’s hand slides into his, and then he squeezes. Bucky gives him a shy smile and they walk hand in hand to Maggie’s Diner. Steve barely even notices Amy popping around the diner anymore; he’s grown used to it and learned to predict her showing up at their table. Steve starts telling him a story about one night he spent at a queer bar Back In The Day and how he ended up being propositioned by three different guys and still went home alone. Bucky smiles and laughs while he listens and then, when Steve’s done, tells his own story about what happened between a kid he calls the Peppermint Tea-nager and three cats in the shop a few days ago. Bucky makes him laugh in a way not much else does these days, and Steve’s come to cherish their growing friendship. He’s realized that he’d kind of like it to become more. 

When Steve walks Bucky back to the shop before he heads out on his own errands, he stops him a few feet from the door. 

“Do you think you can get Alice to cover for you one afternoon this week?” he asks. 

“Um, probably. Why?” Bucky asks in confusion. 

“I’d like to take you on a date,” Steve says. 

Bucky’s grin is so bright, Steve can’t keep himself from reflecting it. “In that case, she definitely will. Just give me the time and date?” 

“I’ll figure something out tonight and text you the details, if that’s okay.” 

“That's perfect,” Bucky says. 

“Alright. I’ll see you then.” Steve leans in and kisses Bucky’s cheek. When he steps back, Bucky’s bearing a pink blush and a shy smile. 

“See you then, Steve.” Bucky watches him for a moment and then turns to go into the store. 

As Steve walks away, he can hear Becca cheering “Bucky got a kiss!” before the door closes. He chuckles to himself and heads to the subway station. He’s got a date to plan. 

~

They decide on Wednesday at three. In the end, Steve has let Bucky plan the details of the date in case he gets called away suddenly, not wanting to leave Bucky stranded at some restaurant he may not even like. Bucky gets Alice to cover for him, and suffers the teasing she and the other two dole out. 

Bucky has kept it mostly a secret what they’re going to do, and he shows up with a big grin where Steve’s been waiting for him. Bucky slips his arm through Steve’s and gently steers him down the block. 

“I think you’re really gonna like this,” Bucky says, ramping up Steve’s curiosity even more. 

“Where are we going again?”

“To the place my cousin works. He’s a magician.” 

“Really? I never would have guessed.” Steve rolls his eyes and Bucky snickers. 

“No, really. He performs magic tricks for a live audience and gets paid for it.” 

“And...no one’s figured it out?” Steve asks, incredulous. Bucky shakes his head, clearly brimming with amusement. 

“It’s amazing what people can convince themselves of when they see something that shouldn’t be possible. Seeing is believing, but believing is also seeing.” 

“That sounds like a reference.” 

Bucky grins. “It is. I’ll tell you about it later. Come on, we’re here.” He guides Steve into a lobby, buys their tickets from a girl he knows by name, and they settle with popcorn in the third row of an auditorium. The room quickly fills up around them with people who are either excited or dubious. A handful of children run up and down the aisles until the lights flash, and then they hurry to their seats as the house lights dim and the stage lights brighten. 

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the speakers. Steve startles a little, and he can see Bucky badly trying to hide a smirk next to him. He resists the temptation to elbow him and settles into his seat, watching as the magician and his assistant enter the stage. Their costumes are almost eye-searingly purple and glittery. 

“Veronica’s my cousin too, not just Marshall,” Bucky murmurs. “Except on the other side, they’re not related.” 

Steve nods to show he heard as Marshall launches into a speech about the show, and the benefits and side effects of audience participation. He ends it by warning people not to try it at home, and launches straight into his first trick. Half an hour into it, he asks for his first volunteer, and hands shoot up all around them. Bucky grabs Steve’s wrist and shoves his hand into the air. 

“You! Big blond guy next to the handsome brunet!” Marshall says, pointing to Steve. Bucky ushers him up and out of the row before he can protest, and before he knows it, he’s on the stage. “What’s your name?” Marshall asks with a smirk hidden from the audience. Veronica is smirking too. They both are well aware who he is, then. 

“Uh, Steve,” he says, and his voice is magically projected even though he’s nowhere near a microphone. 

“Thanks for volunteering, Uh Steve! Our next trick is one many people are familiar with,” Marshall says as Veronica wheels out a long box on a table. “Don’t worry though, no one will be harmed in this show! Alright Uh Steve, if you can just climb into the box there, head through the head hole and feet through the other end.” Veronica produces a step stool, and Steve clambers into the box, hoping he doesn’t look too ridiculous. Veronica and Marshall close it over him, making sure he’s comfortable and can still breathe and wiggle his fingers and toes. Then Marshall brings out a saw and Steve starts to worry. Bucky catches his eye in the audience and gives him an encouraging smile. Steve takes a deep breath and tells himself to relax. Bucky won’t let him get hurt.

Marshall cuts the box in half at Steve’s waist with great theatrics, but Steve doesn’t feels a thing even when the saw goes all the way through. Marshall grabs the box by Steve’s shoulders and _pulls_ , and Steve feels like his world has tilted sideways, or maybe just his insides have. He barely hears Marshall’s request to move his feet and wave to the audience, but he manages to do both. Steve gasps as the box is reconnected and they help him climb out, feeling fine except for a lingering sense of nausea. Marshall keeps talking but Steve doesn’t hear the words. Bucky hurries up on stage, smiling, and ushers him behind the curtain to a chair and a glass of water in a quiet corner. 

Eventually Marshall reappears. “Sorry about that,” he says. “I thought you’d take it better. First time with magic being performed on you?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve says. Bucky rubs his back and Steve just wants to lean into it. So he does, and Bucky wraps an arm around him. “What did you do?” 

“Just a little stretching,” Marshall says. 

“We didn't actually cut you in half, we just made an illusion to make it look like we did. What we actually did was stretch you out,” Veronica says. It’s the first Steve’s heard her speak. “Your abdominal organs might feel uncomfortable, and you might feel nauseous as a result.”

“You’ll be fine though, Steve,” Bucky says. “Drink your water and close your eyes and you’ll feel better.” 

Normally Steve would protest being ordered around, but he doesn’t really feel like fighting right now. He does as Bucky says, and soon enough, he _does_ start to feel better. When he opens his eyes again, he’s surprised to see that 15 minutes have passed according to his watch, Marshall is gone, and Veronica is sitting ten feet in front of him, tending a small potted tree on a table. Bucky is also gone, and Steve wonders how he didn’t notice him leaving. 

“Where did Bucky go?” he asks, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“He’s talking to Marshall outside,” Veronica says serenely. “Are you hungry?” 

Steve pauses to check. “A little, I guess.” 

Veronica smiles and reaches up to a small cluster of flowers on a branch of the tree. She waves her hand over the cluster, and as Steve watches, the flowers change and grow into a cluster of small oranges. She picks one and tosses it to Steve, who catches it easily but then eyes it. 

“They’re safe to eat, I promise.” Steve looks back up to see Veronica holding her own peeled orange in her hand, and she pulls a segment off and eats it. He frowns but eventually gives in, because he _is_ hungry, and he doesn’t have anything better to do. The serum has fought off poisons before. 

It turns out to be one of the best oranges he’s ever had, sweet and juicy with no seeds to catch on his teeth. In a few minutes he’s peeling open his third when Bucky walks back in, looking angry. He pauses when Bucky glares at the orange, but then Veronica throws one at Bucky’s head and he catches it without looking, tearing into it viciously. 

“Marshall is an idiot,” he declares, shoving fruit in his mouth. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Veronica says, picking a small pot up off the ground and holding it out. Bucky fishes a seed out of his mouth and drops it in the pot, and Veronica covers it with dirt from a bag half hidden by her feet. She sets the pot on the table and nudges it in Bucky’s direction. “Make sure to water it with love or it’ll grow angry fruit.” 

“Yeah, I know the drill.” Bucky sighs and lets the tension drop from his shoulders. “I’m really sorry about all this, Steve. It was supposed to be a lot better.” 

Steve looks up from the remains of his orange and shrugs. “I think it went okay. I got to spend time with you, meet your cousins, see some magic, and get a delicious snack. That sounds like a pretty good date to me.” 

Bucky goes pink and turns shy. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Steve catches Bucky’s hand and pulls him closer, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Bucky’s face goes fully red and Veronica snickers behind the orange tree. 

“Well...good. I’m glad it wasn’t a total disaster, then,” Bucky says. 

“Nah, I’ve seen disasters. This wasn't one,” Steve says. 

Bucky grins. “Do you want to go get dinner later? Three oranges isn’t going to hold you forever.” 

“Sure. Can I get another orange though?” Steve asks. “What was that seed thing you did?” Veronica reaches for another orange and then diverts and picks a different one at his second question. 

“Here. Try it yourself.” She tosses the orange to him and hands a second small pot to Bucky, who brings it over to show Steve that it’s half full of dirt. 

“You have to take the seed out of your mouth, you can’t just dig it out of the orange. Then when you plant it, it’ll be attuned to you, and it’ll grow faster and healthier the more time you spend around it. If you tend to it while angry or sad, it’ll reflect those emotions,” Bucky explains. Steve frowns as he peels the orange. 

“Will that kill it?” 

“No, it won’t. Anger will result in sour or bitter and misshapen fruit, and sadness will just make the leaves droop. If you stay that way too long it’ll make the plant sick, but it’ll also grow used to your emotional baseline. Some people just naturally hold more anger in them,” Bucky shrugs. “The tree takes up to a year to be fully grown, based on how much magic you have in you and how well you take care of it. A powerful magician who barely waters it will have a small sickly tree at the end of a year while a kid with barely enough magic to fill a pinky finger who waters with care will have a flourishing bush in six months.” 

“Wow. That sounds amazing.” Steve pops a section of orange in his mouth and chews carefully. Veronica smiles at him. 

“I love magic. It can do so much good in the world as long as you use it right,” she says. Bucky nods his agreement. Steve fishes the seed out of his mouth when he finds it and drops it in the pot, and Bucky takes it over to Veronica to fill the rest of the way with dirt. “You should give it about half a cup of water each day until it sprouts, and after that it will vary depending on how fast it grows and how much sunlight it gets. Less sunlight, less water.” 

“Alright, I’ll remember that,” Steve says. Bucky turns as Marshall approaches them, looking sheepish. 

“Hey Steve. You feeling okay?” He asks. 

“I feel fine now,” Steve says. 

“Good, good. I feel really bad about making you sick, especially since you’re Bucky’s s--ah, um, friend?” He says uncertainly as Bucky gestures frantically at him. “Anyway. The next show is gonna start soon, so I’ll have to steal Veronica away, but you guys are welcome to stay as long as you want.” 

“Actually, I think Bucky and I are going to take a walk and then get dinner,” Steve says, standing up and setting his water glass on the chair. 

“Oh, okay, cool. You just let me know if you ever need anything, okay? And if you have any more side effects, Bucky can take care of you pretty well.” Marshall holds out a hand. “It was nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” Steve shakes his hand, and then Veronica’s. Bucky gives Veronica a hug and then they collect their small pots of dirt and exit out the back door as the pair go back out on stage to cheers and applause. 

They step out into an alley only wide enough for one vehicle to pass through it and the door slams shut behind them. Bucky directs them to one end and they come out into a familiar street, one they crossed while coming to the show. It doesn’t take long to get back to the shop. Bucky takes Steve’s pot with a smile and ducks inside, setting both pots in a safe windowsill before sprinting back outside as his sisters approach. 

“Go, go!” Bucky says. Steve takes off running, careful not to outpace him, and hears Becca and Alice shouting behind them. Bucky laughs and doesn’t slow down until they’ve run two blocks and turned a corner, and then he leans against a brick wall, holding a hand to his chest. He’s grinning through breathless chuckles, and Steve can’t help but smile back. Bucky reaches out and Steve catches his hand, pulling him off the wall. 

“Come on,” Bucky says. “There’s a park nearby we can walk through until it’s a more socially acceptable time for dinner. Unless you want to go eat now?” 

“No, walking’s fine. I like parks.”

“Me too,” Bucky says, and they share a small laugh.

At the park, they walk close enough that their hands bump together every few steps. They talk about inconsequential things, like how beautiful the flowers are and which trees Bucky recalls being planted some years before. Lots of kids play in the grass, screaming with happiness. None of them recognize Steve, or if they do, they don’t approach them.

They leave the park as the sun starts setting, painting the buildings bright orange. The place they go is small, family run, and the waitress gives them a quiet booth in a back corner when they ask for it. It’s cozy and feels welcoming in the dim lighting. Neither of them has ever been there before, so they spend a few minutes perusing the menu and discussing the options. They eventually settle on three different dishes, deciding to share them so that Steve’s metabolism can be fed and Bucky can experiment. Bucky orders a Diet Coke, while Steve opts for water.

For a few moments, they sit, taking in the place. Steve glances around, only looking back at Bucky when Bucky says, “Hey, you wanna play twenty questions?”

Steve doesn’t even think about it, just says, “Yeah, why not?”

“Okay. You wanna go first, or me?”

Steve shrugs, “You can.”

Bucky pretends to think for a few seconds, then asks, “How do you take your steaks? Well, first, do you eat steaks?”

“Yes, I eat steak, and I usually eat it medium rare.”

Bucky scrunches up his nose. “Medium rare? Ew.”

“Well, how do you eat yours?”

“Medium _well_.” Bucky says with all the gravity of someone who knows they’re right. He winks when he adds, “I’m not a heathen.”

They’re interrupted by the waitress bringing their drinks before walking away again. 

Their conversation returns but with a different topic -- namely the cats in the shop, and if they all have names (which they do), and if Bucky can remember all of said names (which he can’t).

“But,” he says, “Becca can.”

The waitress brings their food before too long, and for a while they talk about that. Bucky tries one and then tries to claim the whole plate for himself, but Steve manages to sneak a fork past him so he gives in and shares it. Their conversation meanders through several topics, and before they know it, dinner as well as dessert have been demolished. Bucky grabs the bill to pay it before Steve can, but Steve leaves a hefty tip on the table anyway.

After they leave the restaurant, they walk back to the shop together holding hands, talking quietly, lit only by the orange street lights and the occasional passing car. In the mostly dark night, Steve thinks he can start to see that star Bucky and his siblings have talked about; hovering just above Bucky’s head and glowing faintly, tinged blue. It sinks in that maybe they were right about the soulmate thing all along. 

When they arrive at the shop, all three siblings are clustered around the counter even though Becca and Bobby would normally have gone home by now. Bucky ducks inside to retrieve Steve’s potted orange seed and hands it to him. Steve looks at it for a moment, then sets it down and takes both of Bucky’s hands in his. 

“I had a really good time today,” he says. “Well, aside from the bad reaction to magic.” 

Bucky’s mouth twists before he smiles. “Me too.” 

“I’d like to do it again sometime,” Steve continues. 

“I’d love that. We can talk about it tomorrow?” 

“That sounds good.” Steve collects himself and shifts forward on his feet. Bucky’s breath catches and he sways forward. They meet in the middle, lips touching gently, and Bucky sighs as Steve adds a little more pressure. They part slowly, Bucky blinking fast, and Steve grins. “Goodnight, Bucky.” 

“Goodnight Steve,” Bucky says, sounding dazed. Steve gently pulls his hands away, picks up his pot, and turns to go. 

At the end of the block, he pauses and turns back. Bucky is still standing in front of the shop. Steve waves, Bucky waves back, and then he turns again and goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter we're jumping forward in time a bit, so be prepared for that!


	4. Chapter 3

The next few months seem to fly by. Steve and Bucky go on dates at least once a week, though often more like two or three times. Whenever Steve isn’t working he can be found either at the shop or with Bucky. Sometimes he even spends time outside the shop with Becca, Bobby, or Alice. The girls drag him out for a shopping trip one day, and when they get back, Bucky trips and practically disappears behind the counter when he sees Steve’s new outfit. Steve fidgets with the collar of his purple fitted shirt. 

“Do you think it looks okay?” he asks, unsure. 

“It looks fine,” Bucky stutters. 

“Really? Becca talked me into it but I’m really not sure I like these ‘skinny jeans’,” he says, looking down at the material stretched over his thighs. 

“Trust me, Steve, you look great,” Bucky says, more sure this time. Steve finally looks up and notices the way Bucky is staring at him, eyes wide and hungry. 

“Oh. Okay. I’ll make sure to thank Becca then.”

That isn’t the last shopping trip, and Bucky can hardly take his eyes off Steve when he wears his new clothes. It makes Steve feel conflicted. On one hand, he likes to be appreciated, it makes him want to show off. On the other, this...manufactured body still doesn’t feel like his some days, and he doesn’t want Bucky’s attraction to him to be purely superficial. When he expresses these concerns to Sam and Natasha, Sam calls Steve an idiot and Natasha just laughs. Both of them tell him he needs to talk to Bucky, not to them. 

Steve waits another week before bringing it up, mostly due to exhaustion. He and Natasha go on a five day mission, and Steve hardly sleeps during it. As soon as they get back to the city, Steve grabs a quick shower and then heads straight to the shop. Bucky isn’t there, Becca behind the counter and chatting cheerfully with a girl around her age. When she catches sight of him, she hits the button on the counter that will ring a bell upstairs in Bucky’s apartment. Steve waits impatiently for him to appear, and then grabs at his shoulder when he does. 

“I don’t want you to like me just for the way I look,” he blurts out. Bucky’s eyes go wide. He glances over Steve’s shoulder at Becca and the customer, then drags him upstairs to the apartment. The second the door closes behind them, Steve drops his bag and stumbles over to the couch. He sits heavily, props his elbows on his knees, and puts his face in his hands. 

“Where did this come from?” Bucky asks, sounding surprised. Steve just shakes his head. “Steve.” There’s footsteps, the weight of another body settling on the couch next to him, and then Bucky’s hand on his shoulder. “Please talk to me,” he says quietly. 

Steve pushes his hands through his hair and then clasps them together between his knees. “I...sometimes I don’t like how you look at me. It makes me feel weird...strange. Like the person you’re looking at isn’t who I am.” He takes a deep breath. “But I don’t want you to stop either, because sometimes I do like it, sometimes it makes me feel good. And I don’t know what to do, because I don’t want this to change our relationship, but I couldn’t keep quiet about it anymore.” 

“No, I’m glad you told me,” Bucky says. He sets his head on Steve’s shoulder and slides an arm around his waist, giving him a squeeze. “I want you to be open with me and let me know how you’re feeling. But I don’t know what you mean about how I look at you.” 

“Just the, the way you look at me when I’m wearing tighter clothes, or, or when I take my jacket off. The way you look at my _body_.” 

“So...you don’t like the way I look at you when I’m thinking about sex,” Bucky says bluntly. 

“Yes--no! I like it sometimes but I don’t like it sometimes!” Steve shoves his hands through his hair again, breath coming hard. Bucky slides a hand down his arm to tangle his fingers with Steve’s and bring his hand down to his lap. 

“Steve, babe, it’s okay. Whatever you say isn’t going to change what I think of you. I’ll still be here. Do you want to move somewhere else to talk about it, would that be easier?” 

“No, no, here’s fine.” His throat feels tight in a way it hasn’t--in a way he _hasn’t let it_ \--in a long time. “I just, I don’t know how to make you understand!” 

Bucky rubs a hand up and down his ribs soothingly. “Let me see what I’ve got so far. Most of the time you like the way I look at you, but sometimes it’s too much for you to bear, and it makes you uncomfortable. And this has to do with the way your body looks now?” He asks. 

“Yes, it’s too much!” 

Bucky stays quiet for a minute, thinking. His hand doesn’t stop rubbing up and down Steve’s side. “After you work through this, there’s some things I’m going to have you look up. But, Steve, do you _want_ to go back to the way your body was before?”

“Well...no.” Steve wipes at his face with his free hand, and to his surprise it comes away wet. 

“You’ve only been like this for a few years, right? Why don’t you tell me about it and see if I can help you figure it out?” Bucky offers. 

Steve sniffs and nods. “Okay. I, um, I only got the serum about three years ago. And it was amazing, because I could breathe right, and see right, and I was completely healthy for the first time in my life, and finally people _noticed_ me and respected me where they didn’t before. But then, lots of people stared at me, and mostly they looked at my chest and my arms and, they made _comments_ and I got invited home with people. It was exciting at first, the girls from the USO shows were real friendly, and they taught me a lot, but their interest didn’t go beyond what I looked like, _nobody’s_ did.” He worries at his lower lip for a moment. “I just wanted people to like me for _me_ ,” he says quietly. 

“Steve, can you look at me?” Bucky asks gently. Steve slowly turns and lifts his eyes, and Bucky smiles. “Steve, I _love_ you.” 

All of a sudden, Steve feels like he can’t breathe, like maybe the world has stopped spinning around him. Bucky doesn’t seem to notice. 

“I may have been drunk when we met, but I know that the first thing I said to you was that you seemed nice and I wanted you to be my friend. You caught me when you could have let me fall on my face. Most people would have. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, so, thanks.” Bucky wets his lips and continues. “The things I find most attractive about you? Well, I like the way you hold a pencil, and the way your face gets when you’re focused. I like the stubborn way you set your jaw when you know you’re right, even if the person you’re arguing with is me. Your eyes get so intense sometimes, and you’re so observant. You were able to pick up on Becca’s favorite color after she wore it twice. Your body as it is, it’s very handsome, but Steve, I’ve seen the picture of what you looked like before, and I would still love that man if it was him sitting here in front of me now.” He presses a hand to Steve’s chest, palm flat over his heart. “I love _you_ , not what you look like.”

It’s more than Steve can take. He throws himself into Bucky’s arms, bearing him down to the couch with the force of it, and hides his face in Bucky’s neck. He can’t keep himself from crying into Bucky’s shirt, but Bucky just strokes his hands up and down Steve’s back and murmurs soft, soothing things to him. When Steve finally calms down, he sits up and scrubs a hand over his eyes, drying his face on his sleeve. 

“Sorry,” he says, sounding congested and sniffly to himself. 

“You’re fine, babe,” Bucky says, hands having fallen to gently squeeze Steve’s outer thighs when he sat up. Steve’s face heats up as he realizes he’s straddling Bucky, and he quickly moves off the couch so he can sit up. Bucky does sit up and then reaches for him, standing as he pulls Steve closer and wrapping him in a hug. Steve tucks himself down into it, soaking up Bucky’s warmth. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. The shirt can be washed.” 

Bucky probably didn’t mean to be funny, but Steve finds himself laughing anyway, just a few short breaths huffed into his shoulder. He lifts his head to look at him. 

“I think I love you too,” he says. 

“You think?” Bucky teases. 

“I’m--I’m not sure. I’ve never felt like this before about anyone,” Steve mumbles. 

“That’s okay. You can take your time to figure it out.” Bucky leans up and kisses his forehead. “Do you want to watch a movie? Nothing sad, I promise.” 

“Beauty and the Beast?” Steve suggests. 

“Perfect. We can cuddle on the couch with a blanket.” Before Bucky can pull away to go put in the movie, Steve pulls him in for a kiss. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. 

Bucky smiles sweetly and kisses him again. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

~~

In early August they plan a date, one of the classics: a picnic in the park. They spend three days bickering over what food to take, because Steve just wants to do sandwiches but Bucky thinks that’s boring. He wants to do something more exciting, like…ice cream sandwiches. Steve protests that ice cream sandwiches are not food, they are _dessert_ , even if they are better than normal sandwiches.

Their friends and family offer conflicting, unhelpful advice and make no effort to hide their laughter. 

But when they finally do go out, they care more about each other than the food. Bucky can’t help but be besotted when Steve somehow gets sauce smeared across his chin, and when Bucky leans over to wipe it away, there’s heat in Steve’s eyes that makes him breathless for a moment. He starts to lean in, and then a kid nearly crashes straight into them. Bucky reevaluates and asks Steve if he wants to go _for a walk_ after they eat, and Steve agrees. They can’t finish lunch fast enough after that. Bucky collects their trash and takes it to a nearby garbage can while Steve packs up the blanket and everything else and sticks it back in the basket. They meet eyes, join hands, and head for the trail that meanders around the edge of the park, hoping to find a secluded enough tree they can make out behind. 

Bucky can feel the anticipation building, and it’s hard to act normal. He and Steve haven’t really done much, even though they’ve been dating for three months. He’s had his hand down Steve’s pants a few times, and the first time he embarrassingly came in his pants just from grinding against Steve’s thigh. It reminded him so much of being a teenager that he had to check and make sure Becca wasn’t just outside the room. The second time, he refused to be embarrassed. The third time, Steve actually managed to return the favor. But they still haven’t seen each other naked and Bucky can’t wait for that day. 

He also can’t wait to find some privacy, as they dodge around a couple joggers, a dad with a stroller, and a woman walking her dog. Finally Steve just tows him off the path toward a denser stand of trees, drops the basket carelessly, and grabs his face in both hands to devour his mouth. Bucky moans and steps forward until Steve’s back comes up against a tree, and then Bucky plasters himself to him. He rucks his hands up under Steve’s shirt and then it’s Steve’s turn to moan. Steve shoves his hand into Bucky’s hair and the elastic breaks with a snap, sending his hair falling around his face, except for what Steve’s holding in his fist. Bucky’s hands start migrating down, and then before he knows what’s happening, Steve’s got his wrist in a tight grip and is pulling away. 

“I think we should stop,” he says breathlessly. 

“Stop?” Bucky asks blankly, thumbing his hip. 

Steve shivers and his eyes flutter and Bucky wants to dive back in. “Someone’s going to catch us if we keep going,” Steve says pointedly. 

“Oh.” Bucky stares at his mouth for a minute before his brain catches up. “Oh, so, your place?” 

“Yes,” Steve agrees quickly. Emphatically. 

It’s Bucky’s turn to shiver. “Okay.” He reluctantly steps back and makes himself turn away, fixing his hair with a spare elastic while he searches the ground for the broken one. He freezes when he sees what’s sitting at the base of another tree in dappled sunlight. 

“Bucky?”

“Shit,” Bucky mutters.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

“Call me crazy,” Bucky says, pointing, “but I think that might be a dragon egg.” 

Steve follows his gaze, looking over his shoulder. “Shit,” he echoes.

~~

Bucky stares at egg from one side of the counter, leaning on his elbows. On the other side of the counter, Becca is doing the same. The shop’s closed early tonight so no one’s there but them and Steve and a million cats. Steve is looking back and forth between them in a deepening state of confusion. 

“Someone want to explain to me what’s significant about finding a dragon egg in the park?” he asks eventually. 

“They’re illegal,” Bucky and Becca say simultaneously. Bucky takes a deep breath and draws himself up. “You have to a have a license to own, buy, sell, or breed dragons. Most people who do live in rural areas, because dragons can get big, and they need space.”

“For one to randomly show up in a public park in the middle of a big city?” Becca continues. “Something’s not right.”

“Okay, but it’s not a dragon. Just an egg, and it mostly looks like a weird rock.” Steve reaches for it, but the twins both shout “Don’t!” so he snatches his hand back. Becca sighs and rubs her closed eyes. 

“I’ll call mom and Alice, Bucky, call Dad and Bobby?” 

“Alright.” They each pull out their phones and take a few steps away. 

Steve frowns down at the egg. Bucky wouldn’t let him touch it at the park either. He picked it up with their picnic blanket, shoved it in the basket, and hurried them home after making sure no one was around or watching them. He didn’t explain why, too tense until they got to the shop. Steve, who never could stand to back down when someone told him he couldn’t do something, reaches out and picks up the egg. It feels rough and a little scaly, like someone carved an egg shape into a fist-sized piece of lava rock. It looks like lava too, red and orange and gold like fire, like the sun. As he turns it around in his hands, he notices a tiny crack in the side of it and pokes at it with his fingernail, scraping at it. 

“Steve, don’t!” Bucky says, lunging towards him, dropping his phone on the counter to reach out with both hands. Steve, surprised, stumbles and drops the egg in Bucky’s reaching hands as it starts splitting open from the crack Steve poked at. There’s a flash of light, a loud smashing sound, and when Steve blinks the light from his eyes, Bucky is cradling a tiny weird lizard in his hands. The dragon, for it must be a dragon, is the same coloring as the fragments of eggshell it sits among in Bucky’s cupped palms. It looks indignant and ridiculous, and Bucky looks astonished. Becca swears softly and creeps forward as the dragon shakes a bit of shell off its head and looks around. 

“Did you bond with it?” Becca asks. 

“Her,” Bucky corrects, sounding breathless. 

“It’s a girl?” Steve asks. The dragon whips around at the sound of his voice and over balances, nearly toppling to the floor until Bucky moves to catch her, bits of eggshell clattering to the floor from his hands. Tiny talons curl around Bucky’s fingertips as the dragon leans over to peer at Steve, and Bucky makes a noise that can only be described as a squeak. 

“I think we both bonded with her,” Bucky says, full of wonder, and Becca sighs. 

“I’ll try calling mom again,” she says, wandering off. 

Steve inches closer to Bucky and the dragon, who’s still staring at him with golden eyes. He’s full of a curiosity that doesn’t entirely feel like his own. 

“Dragons can communicate telepathically with those they bond with,” Bucky murmurs. “You might be hearing her.” He holds his hands out and Steve cautiously extends a finger to the dragon. She grabs his fingertip with two tiny feet, soft claws catching on his skin, and chirps at him. Steve’s eyes go wide as a strange, alien, intense curiosity blooms inside him. The dragon chirps again and reaches up to grasp at his nose, and when did he get so close? 

“Got a new nose decoration there?” Bucky asks, still half breathless. Steve laughs and reaches up to loosen her grip, and then she crawls into his hands. She’s scaly but soft, and it’s nothing like he’s ever felt before. 

“Are all dragons this small?” he asks. 

“Freshly hatched babies are, yeah,” Bucky answers, turning away to tip the eggshell fragments out onto the counter. “In a week she won’t fit in an egg anymore.”

“They grow that fast?” 

“All babies grow fast,” Bucky says, sounding amused. 

“What are we going to do now?” Steve asks. 

“Well we can’t give her away now that we’ve bonded. I mean, we could, but she might not survive well. We’ll need to apply for expedited dragon licenses, and maybe make an appearance in court explaining how this happened. Maybe pay a fee.” 

“For accidental dragon acquisition?” 

“For not alerting the authorities immediately.” One of Bucky’s cats jumps up on the counter and sniffs at the shells. Bucky watches closely, and then has to jump forward to push the cat away when he starts to look like he wants to eat it. Once the cat is out of the way, Bucky sighs and drops down on the couch. Steve carefully moves to join him as the dragon inspects the cuffs of his shirt. The cat jumps over to the arm of the couch, eyeing the dragon. The dragon pays no attention. 

“So if we get to keep it, should we name it?” Steve asks. 

Bucky groans and rubs his hand over his face. “Can it wait for tomorrow?”

“Okay. Hey, Bucky?”

“What?”

“What do dragons eat?” Steve holds up his hands, showing that the dragon is gnawing, determined but harmless, on his thumb, tiny jaws stretched wide. 

Bucky explodes out of his seat, startling cat, dragon, and Steve. “Becca, what do dragons eat?!”

~~

None of them sleep much that night. After the twins explain to him that whoever had lost the dragon egg in the park might come looking for it, Steve insists on sleeping downstairs on the couch behind the counter to defend the shop should anyone try to break in. Bucky stares at him for a minute and then kisses him deeply while Becca mimes gagging behind him. They’re reluctant to part, but Becca drags Bucky and the dragon upstairs before they can get too heated. The night passes uneventfully, but anxiety and the dragon keep them all up anyway. 

Bright and early the next morning, Becca goes out and buys a pet carrier and returns with Alice and Bobby in tow. She’d swung by Marshall’s to have him cast about a dozen illusion charms on the carrier and found her siblings hanging out with phones they’d forgotten to charge, which is why neither of them had answered their calls the night before. Bucky and Steve coax the tiny dragon into the carrier, with a blanket tucked inside, and head for what Steve iss surprised to see is the police station. Bucky asks for Officer Jeremy Smith and then when they reveal the dragon, they get separated, interrogated, and then examined. As Bucky predicted, they are ordered to appear at court the following day, where they will be required to pay a fine, and are given paperwork to fill out to get dragon licenses. 

“Ew, paperwork,” Bucky mutters, so quietly only Steve can hear him. Steve has to struggle not to laugh. 

They spend that night at the shop working on paperwork, with Bobby as company. He is endlessly fascinated with the dragon, and so is his favorite cat, perched up on his shoulder. They keep the dragon occupied while Steve and Bucky work. 

Steve is nervous for the court appearance, and he could have sworn some people recognize him as Captain America. Bucky drags him into a closet to calm him down by kissing him breathless. The court appearance goes smoothly; a shrewd older woman in judges’ robes peers down at them, and then sets their fee at a reasonable price and lets them go. They submit their paperwork that afternoon. 

A few days later, they get called back to the station to pick up their licenses. Steve drops onto the couch as soon as they get back to the shop, which he is surprised to find he’s begun thinking of as home. Bucky leans into his side and the dragon, who they’ve decided to call Sunday, curls up on their laps. Steve wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and lowers the other hand to stroke his fingers over Sunday’s tiny, scaly head. He can hardly believe so much has happened so quickly. Five days ago he and Bucky were on a date in the park, eager to drag each other home, and now they’re the co-owners of a tiny sun-colored dragon. He thinks mournfully that they never did get to complete that unspoken promise of what would happen once they left the park; finding the egg took higher precedence. He starts to wonder if they can get Becca to dragon-sit. 

As if she can hear his thoughts, which Steve’s still not entirely sure she can do, Sunday looks up and starts scolding him with quiet dragon-noises before gnawing on his fingers. Bucky reaches over and rescues his fingers by scooping her up. 

“Be nice to Steve,” he admonishes. Sunday chirps at him and climbs up his sleeve to his shoulder, and then from there to the arm of the couch. She spreads her tiny wings and then seems to think better of it, turning to scold Bucky until he helps her to the floor, where she is quickly joined by three cats. All the shop cats have proven more curious of the tiny lizard in their midst than anything else, so Bucky and Steve feel safe enough in letting her wander around behind the counter with them. Bucky drops his head onto Steve’s shoulder, and Steve cards his fingers through his hair. 

“Is this what it’s like to be a parent?” Steve asks thoughtfully. Bucky groans in response. 

“My parents were saints putting up with four of us.” Steve snorts and kisses Bucky’s head. Bucky rolls it to look up at him. “We didn’t even get to participate in the baby making, it’s not fair.” 

“How tired are you?” Steve asks, amused. 

“Too much, but not too much.” His hand falls on Steve’s thigh and squeezes gently, and Steve bites his lip. He knows exactly what Bucky means. 

“You want to go upstairs?” 

“More than anything,” Bucky says eagerly. He stands and pulls Steve to his feet, wasting no time moving in for a kiss as they shuffle towards the stairs. 

“Do you think Sunday will be okay down here by herself?” Steve murmurs. 

“She can’t get into too much trouble,” Bucky replies, teeth tugging on Steve’s lower lip. Just as they get the door open to go upstairs, there’s a crash by the counter, and they groan simultaneously. “Do you think we can just leave it?” 

“It sounded like something glass broke. Someone might step in it,” Steve says. 

“I hate being responsible,” Bucky says. Steve drops his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky rubs a soothing hand up and down his back. “Raincheck?” he offers. 

“Raincheck,” Steve agrees. They separate to go investigate and clean up, and then Steve leans in to whisper in Bucky’s ear. “Get someone to babysit Sunday for us soon.” Bucky shivers and glances at him with dark, hungry eyes. 

“Yes, sir,” Bucky breathes. 

~~

Alice agrees to dragon-sit Sunday on Sunday. Since a lot of their dragon care items are in Bucky’s apartment, Alice elects to stay there, so that Becca can pop up from the shop to help her if necessary. Steve and Bucky hustle over to Steve’s apartment. They’ve both been waiting for this for so long, they barely get the apartment door shut and locked behind them before they reach for each other, Steve tearing Bucky’s shirt in his haste to get it off. He throws it, and something clatters to the floor, but Steve doesn’t care, pushing Bucky through to his bedroom. His own shirt gets removed somewhere along the way. Bucky stumbles over something so Steve just picks him up, mouthing at the sun tattoo on his collarbone. Bucky moans and fists his hand in Steve’s hair. They make it to the bedroom, and for the first time manage to get all their clothes off, at which point they pause to admire each other. 

Bucky has the sun tattoo on his collarbone, the shooting stars on his forearm, and two others, a fox and a bear, elsewhere on his body. He also has a scar on the back of his left calf from a childhood accident, and another long jagged one from the bottom of his ribs to his upper thigh on the right side. There’s a dusting of hair on his chest, a thick trail on his belly, and his legs are shaved. He looks gorgeous. Steve drags him close because he can’t wait to get his mouth on him, and in between their pushing and pulling at each other, Steve ends up on his back with Bucky between his legs. Bucky’s mouth trails down Steve’s neck, and Steve takes the opportunity to reach for the night stand, where he has a box of condoms stashed away just for this. When he shyly offers them, Bucky’s pupils blow so wide, Steve can’t see the color anymore. A glimmer of light shines above Bucky’s head, and that’s all Steve can see as Bucky eagerly moves back in. 

~~

Steve and Bucky stay in bed most of the day, only leaving when they have to. By mid afternoon, three amazing rounds later, Steve is too worn out to do much more than lie with his head on Bucky’s stomach, Bucky’s fingers combing lazily through his hair. The bear tattoo, a few inches from his face, noses curiously at his fingers as Steve traces Bucky’s scar. He can’t really feel it, except through the warmth of Bucky’s skin, but Bucky has told him that it’s like a tickle when they move, or just a tingle in his skin. Steve brushes his fingers over the bear anyway, and it stretches like it can feel the way he’s stroking its back. 

Right now the bear is in full color, looking like it was painted in watercolor, the same warm shade of brown that’s on the shop’s business card making up most of the body. When he first saw it, it had no color at all, made up solely of geometric shapes. There’s a similar tattoo on Bucky’s calf, and Steve pulls his leg up to look at it. Bucky lets him do it without protest. The fox there is in geometric form, but when Steve touches it, the color bleeds in and the stark black lines melt away. The fox blinks at him and curls its tail around its paws. It also sits near a scar. 

“The bear is for my Ma, and the fox is for my Dad,” Bucky murmurs. He keeps combing his fingers through Steve’s hair until Steve looks up at him. Bucky lowers his gaze from the ceiling and smiles. “I got the fox when I was 18, and Becca got a coonhound at the same time. My Dad was really freaked out when I fell from a tree and that happened.” He gestures to the scar. “None of us kids had been hurt that bad before, and he didn’t handle it well. He’s not a very demonstrative person, so that kind of...hammered it home that he loved me. I wanted to commemorate that, so I got the tattoo by the scar so he can watch over it for me.” 

“And the bear?” Steve asks. 

Bucky brings down the hand that’s been folded behind his head until then and traces the scar. The bear leans up and appears to rest its paws on Bucky’s wrist. “We did some stupid things in college, Becca and our cousins and me. We were letting Marshall practice some of his tricks on us and something went wrong. It took three hours to sew me back up, and afterwards, Ma shouted at each of us for an hour and grounded us all for a month. Uncle Eddie didn’t even protest, and neither did Uncle Dean and Aunt Lillian. Actually, Aunt Lillian added to Marshall's punishment somehow, but he never breathed a word of what it was. And after I healed up, Joel, Eddie’s son, tattooed the bear on me. She likes to walk from one end of it to the other, like she’s patrolling.” 

“That sounds nice,” Steve murmurs, stroking the fox and then the bear. “Did Joel tattoo the fox too?” 

“Yeah. It was one of his first, back when he was still an apprentice. Took him ages to do it, I nearly fell asleep in the chair. The lines are a little rough but I love it.” The fox prances up Bucky’s leg for him to pat it and then it returns to its place, curling up by the scar. 

“You nearly fell asleep?” Steve asks incredulously. 

“Yeah, I think Joel drugged me so I wouldn’t twitch.” He waits just to see the look on Steve’s face before continuing. “Actually, the piercer who worked in the shop is really good at putting out soothing vibes, she breathes out that magic like air. She’d have to do it a lot for first timers, and it filled the whole shop. Some people did fall asleep, but those are like, people with a dozen tattoos.” 

“Don’t do that to me,” Steve scolds, shoving Bucky’s shoulder and making him laugh. “You had me thinking he actually drugged you.” He pauses, and then, “Do you think I could get one?” He asks thoughtfully. 

“A tattoo? Sure, if you want. You got something in mind?” Bucky asks. 

Steve hums and lays his head back down. “Something for my ma, I think.” He watches the bear march up and down Bucky’s side for a minute. “Does your magic make it move?” 

Bucky squirms. “A little, but it’s mostly Joel’s magic in the ink and the needles. I think you’ve got enough in you for that, if that’s what you want.” 

“Good.” Steve reaches up and finds Bucky’s hand, bringing it down to kiss his fingers one by one. He sounds a little breathless when he speaks again. 

“Your bosses won’t mind?” 

“I honestly don’t care if they do,” Steve says. “This body may not be the one I grew up with, but Howard and Doctor Erskine gave it to me, so it’s mine now to do with what I want. If I want to get a tattoo, then I will.” 

Bucky shivers. “I love all this confidence you have. I love _you_. Come here and kiss me again.” Steve smiles and pushes himself up on his elbows to do so. Above their heads, the stars shine just a little bit brighter. 

~~

Sunday the dragon takes up a lot of time and energy. Steve does most of the caretaking since Bucky still has to run his shop, and he’s just glad he hasn’t been called away for a mission since they found the egg. Becca has insisted on measuring her growth, and each day she’s just a little bit bigger, a little bit smarter. A little less than two weeks after she hatched, Bucky excitedly shoves an kitten in Steve’s face when he enters the shop one morning. 

“Look!” Bucky exclaims. 

“You got a new cat?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, look closer!” 

Steve frowns but does so. As he studies the kitten, the furry form melts away to reveal Sunday. 

“Isn’t it great? She’s learned how to disguise herself!” Bucky declares. He brings Sunday close to nuzzle her with his cheek. “She’s growing so fast, I’m so proud!” 

Of course, the peace they’ve found can’t last forever. 

Bucky and Steve take Sunday out on a trip to the pet store, disguised as a kitten and perched on Bucky’s shoulder. It doesn’t take long before Steve gets the feeling they’re being followed. He casually glances back and sees someone duck into an alley behind them. Frowning, he takes Sunday from her perch and places her in Bucky’s hands, petting her to make it look normal. He doesn’t do anything else yet, waiting until they come out of the pet store to make sure the guy is still following them and not just happening to go in the same direction. Yes, there he is, loitering at the doorway of the next store over. 

Steve puts his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, leaning in. “Someone’s following us,” he mutters. Bucky and Sunday both look back, neither one very stealthy about it, and Steve hustles them into continuing forward. “Don’t draw attention. We need to get out of here. You take Sunday and go ahead, I’ll hang back to see if I can identify them.” 

“Steve, no,” Bucky protests. “Shouldn’t we stay together?” 

“If it’s someone after Sunday, we need to keep her safe.” Steve leans in and kisses Bucky’s cheek. “I know you can do that, but I still want to get a look at who it is.” Bucky takes a deep breath, glances back, and nods. 

“Okay.” He gives Steve a quick kiss and keeps going, holding Sunday close in his arms so she can’t wiggle loose and go back to Steve. Steve hides in a shadowy doorway, waits for the follower to pass him, then comes up behind him, gets a hand over his mouth, and drags him into an alley. 

“Why are you following us?” Steve demands, taking his hand off his mouth. 

“I wasn’t following you,” he immediately denies. Steve shoves him up against the wall. “Okay, okay, maybe I was following you.” 

“Why?”

“Your cat looks weird, man. I’ve never seen a cat with scales on its tail.” The guy smirks. 

“What do you want with her?” 

“Look, if I’ve got this right, you guys found an egg in the park a few weeks ago, yeah? I lost it there. Just let me have the dragon and we won’t have any trouble,” he says, trying to be smooth and falling short of it. 

“Why should I do that?” Steve asks. 

The guy glances around. “I’ll get in trouble with my bosses if I don’t give it back soon. Come on, man, please?” he whines, resorting to begging. 

“Steve?” Bucky says from the mouth of the alley. “We need to go, you’re drawing attention.” 

“I don’t want to let this guy go until we have answers,” Steve says. Bucky approaches them. 

“So we’ll take him with us, but we gotta go.” He holds Sunday close with one hand and gestures them onward, out the other side of the alley. Steve gets a grip on the guy’s arm that’s tight but looks casual. He starts sweating when Bucky steers them straight to the police station. They hand the guy over to Officer Smith and explain what happened, and then leave him there and head straight home where it’s safe. Bucky bundles them into his apartment, dumping Sunday in Steve’s arms and going to make sure the windows are closed and the wards are in place. 

“Bucky? Come here,” Steve says after he’s done. Bucky crosses the room and collapses into Steve’s arms, and Steve guides them onto the couch. Sunday cuddles up between them. 

“Sorry. I’m worried,” Bucky says into Steve’s collarbone. Steve strokes his hand down Bucky’s spine. 

“I know. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll keep Sunday safe.” 

“What if we can’t?” Bucky looks up at him. “What if this is something big, something dangerous?” 

“I’ll have my people look into it, and you can do the same. Someone has to know something.” Steve kisses his forehead. “We’ll be fine.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Bucky says. 

~~

The next day, Steve swings by the police station to see if they’ve learned anything they’re willing to share with him, only to see the guy they brought in the day before walking away in the other direction. Curious and suspicious, Steve walks right by the station and starts to follow him, making sure to use all his stealth training so he isn’t noticed. The guy leads him right to a shady looking abandoned factory, where he goes in a side entrance. Steve looks around, sneaks up to the door, and listens carefully before he slips inside, closing the door quietly behind him. Following the sound of voices, he creeps around a corner to a lit up doorway. The guy is there, surrounded by about a dozen people holding weapons, facing down a mean-looking man in thick black tac gear. 

“What do you mean, you got arrested?” 

The guy squirms and mutters something Steve can’t understand with him facing away. 

“Speak up, Myers,” the man demands. Myers jumps. 

“Sorry, Rumlow, sir.” He gulps. “I...I took a dragon egg without permission to show it to my girlfriend, only I lost it, and these two guys found it and it hatched. I was following them to see if I could grab the dragon, but they caught me instead and dragged me to Smith. He let me off with a warning so I came back here.” 

“You could have exposed the whole smuggling ring,” Rumlow growls. 

“I’m sorry,” Myers squeaks. 

Rumlow sighs and drags a gloved hand over his face. “Did you at least make sure you weren’t followed?” He asks. 

A ringing silence answers him. 

“You _didn’t_?” Rumlow demands. Myers shrinks in on himself. Rumlow turns to the other men. “Go, check the entrances! Search the hallways, sweep the building! Make sure no one else us here!” 

Steve carefully yet quickly backs away from the door as the men turn towards him, but as soon as he reaches the corner, he hears a voice behind him. 

“Hey! Who are you?!” Someone demands. Steve swears under his breath and charges forward, bursting past the door just as a man steps out. Steve plows straight over him and keeps running. Someone fires off a shot and it pings against the wall over his head. 

“After him!” Rumlow orders. The men take off in pursuit. Steve can outrun a normal human any day, but with the entrance behind him, they have the advantage of knowing the building when he doesn’t. He takes a few corners at a run, backtracks quickly when he nearly runs into a pair, and ducks through the nearest door, closing it quickly and quietly behind hi before leaning his weight against it and holding his breath to listen. 

“Hey Rollins, did you see him?” A voice asks at one end of the hallway. At the other, someone answers, “No. He must have ducked into a room. Start searching.” The sound of doors being opened comes from both ends of the hallway. Steve closes his eyes for a moment and then slowly slides along the wall away from the door, keeping his hand on the wall so he won’t get lost in the dark. He reaches the corner and moves down the next wall too. The men get closer to his door, and Steve braces himself. The knob turns and a sliver of light is revealed. 

“No, not that one,” Rumlow says sharply, and the door closes again. “That’s where the dragon is. If he’s in there, it can eat him, and he’s not our problem anymore. Keep searching.” 

“Yes sir.” The search moves on, the men move away, and Steve lets out a breath of relief. He takes a few steps away from the wall, moving back toward the door, and comes to a sudden stop as something presses against him from the chest down. Cautiously reaching out a hand, he touches something scaly, almost leathery, and warm. The floor vibrates beneath his feet, and an arm’s length away from his hand, a single, large, golden eye slits open, peering at him. It’s easily as big as his head. This must be what they meant by the dragon eating him. Sunday definitely isn’t big enough for that, but this one? If that’s the size of just the eye, he’d only be a mouthful. 

“Easy there,” he murmurs. The dragon growls, and the vibration travels straight through him. The dragon’s head shifts, and then glowing yellow, orange, and red ripple out from the point of contact. The colors spread until the entire massive dragon is illuminated, wings pinioned close to its sides. There are huge shackles around each of its four legs, anchored to the floor and walls. The room is two stories high, and the dragon fills it even lying down. It lifts its head and Steve loses contact, backing away as it opens its mouth. “I don’t mean any harm.” He lifts his hands in surrender, but the dragon roars anyway, so loudly it shakes the walls and dust drifts down from the rafters. Knowing that his position has been given away, he bolts for the door and bursts into the hallway. The dragon heaves like a bellows, and a burst of flame follows him into the hallway. A siren goes off as he sprints away. Shouting comes from all directions. Steve turns a corner and slams right into Rumlow. He barely stops, knocking down the two men behind him and leaving them to collect themselves from the floor. 

“You two go after him, the rest of us will deal with the dragon!” Rumlow barks. 

Steve finds a staircase and sprints up it three steps at a time, clanging loudly. He doesn’t bother trying to be quiet now, he just needs to get out of the building and then he can worry about stealth. The men shout as they run after him, but he’s leagues ahead. He climbs another staircase, rounds a corner, and sees a grimy window up ahead, letting in a few streaks of light. He holds his breath, hopes for the best, and throws himself through it. 

~~

Three blocks away, Steve crouches behind a dumpster, catching his breath and listening as the last of the sirens and alarms fade away. He’s pretty sure he lost his pursuers, but the last thing he wants to do is lead these people back to Bucky and Sunday. Once he can breathe again, he’ll circle the area several times, backtrack, and climb a fire escape to go across the rooftops to make sure he’s lost them before he goes back home. 

It’s only been a minute, though, and he’s barely recovered, when a footstep in the alley has him whipping around to see someone standing only twenty feet away. 

“Well, Steve Rogers, it’s about time I found you.” 


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed the chapter count changed. This thing just isn't wrapping up as nicely as I expected :| this was _supposed_ to be the last chapter... Also the rating has gone up.

Steve stares suspiciously at the old woman, who looks like she can’t be any younger than 75. “Who are you?” 

“What kind of manners are those?” She demands. She marches over and reaches up, grabbing him by the ear before he can stop her. It brings back sudden memories that match the sharp pain from the grip she has on him. She pulls him out of the alley with her. “I know your mother taught you better than that.” She continues to scold him for the next five minutes as she pulls him through the streets, at one point even calling him Bobby. Steve has no idea what’s going on, and he’s about to pull away to straighten up, whether or not his ear is still attached, when she ushers him to a car. 

“Get in, I’ll take you to the shop,” she murmurs, glancing down the street in the direction they came from. 

Steve rubs his ear once she’s freed it. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but--” he stops when she levels a cold glare at him. 

“Get in the car, Steven, or I’ll do worse than pull your ear,” she says. Steve slips into the car, and she gets in the driver’s side. It isn’t until the doors are locked and she’s driven three blocks that she relaxes. “Sorry about that, hun, I didn’t want those awful men to catch you. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dorothy Patterson Fischer. You may call me Dottie. I am Bucky’s grandmother.”

Steve stares at the side of her head. “You’re the Grandma Dottie that I’ve heard so much about?” 

“That’s right. What were you thinking, going into that building on a whim, without any backup or weapons or even telling anyone where you were?” She demands. “You didn’t used to be quite that fool headed when you knew someone had a gun.” 

“How do you know all this?” Steve asks, bewildered. He’s never met her before, but here she is, acting familiar enough with him to speak about him in the past tense.

“I’ve been studying magic since before you were turned into this…” she waves a hand at him without ever taking her eyes off the road, “well, _this_. There are many things I know.”

“What?”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is the dragon you and my grandson found. She’s part of a whole smuggling ring, which you just saw. You know, I’ve been working on this operation for six months. You almost just ruined it all!” She tsks.

“Operation? What are you, a SHIELD agent?”

She looks away long enough to give him a Look. “No. I was approached many years ago by Peggy Carter, sure, but I said no. Magic and the government, they aren’t meant to be married together. I think she saw that; she didn’t ask again.”

“Peggy knew about magic?” Steve asks, utterly confused. There’s clearly a lot going on he knows nothing about.

“Of course, dear. Really, it’s a wonder it took you so long to find out about it. Everyone from the ‘old countries’,” she does air quotes with her right hand, “had some, knew some, or knew of it at the very least. Indigenous people, too. I’d say _especially_ indigenous people. Anyhow, Dr. Erskine was a well known witch. Of course Peggy knew. If she didn’t, well -- ”

“To who?”

“Hmm?”

“Well known to who?”

“In the magic community,” she explains, making a sharp turn. She looks over at him again. “James sure has a lot left to teach you, huh?”

“Clearly,” Steve mumbles.

“He’ll have his chance soon, we’re almost there,” she says. Steve stays quiet for the next few minutes, thinking everything over. When they arrive, he hurries out of the car so he can get the door for her, but she’s already out and locking the car by then. Instead he goes ahead to open the shop door for her. She gives him a look like she knows what he’s doing but sails on in anyway. 

“James, Rebecca!” She calls. “Look who I met out on the street!” Becca pops up from behind the counter and Bucky appears from the back room, Sunday clinging to his shoulder with tiny kitten claws. 

“How did Grandma meet Steve?” Bucky whispers urgently to Becca, who shrugs back. 

Dottie looks around the shop to make sure there are no customers, then she waves her hand toward the door. The lock clicks into the place, the sign switches from “open” to “closed”, and the rarely-used blinds lower on all the windows. 

“We need to have a talk, children.” 

~~

Bucky paces back and forth in the book corner, where Grandma Dottie, Becca, and Steve are sitting. One of the older shop cats is stretched across Grandma Dottie’s lap as she pets him slowly. Sunday is curled around Steve’s neck, and the massive gray Maine Coon that’s taken it upon herself to teach Sunday how to cat is on his lap. Bucky runs a hand through his hair and turns to Grandma Dottie. 

“So you’re saying you’re part of the some secret magic committee that I’ve never heard of before.”

“Yes.”

“And you track and hunt down dragon smuggling rings.”

“Among other things, yes.”

“And you’ve never thought to tell us?”

She crosses her arms. “James, it’s called secret for a reason. If we all told our grandchildren, the smugglers would be more cautious and harder to find.”

“Are you for real?” Bucky asks. Then, to the room at large, he asks, “Is she for real?”

“Yes,” Grandma Dottie and Becca say at the same time. Becca sounds considerably more confused.

Still, Bucky demands, “Becca, you knew?”

Her hands fly up. “No! I’m just saying, she’s not joking!”

Bucky pushes both hands through his hair and flops onto the couch with Steve, who wraps an arm around his shoulders and lets him lean in. Sunday crosses their shoulders to wrap herself around Bucky’s neck instead. Like the world’s most friendly necklace. She’s scaly and kinda rough but she’s warm and the vibration of the purring she’s learned feels nice. 

“And this big smuggling ring wants to take Sunday from us,” he says, reaching up to pet her. She tilts her tiny head into his fingers. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re not going to let them take her,” Steve says, kissing the top of his head. Becca nods firmly in solidarity. 

Grandma Dottie looks stern, and she leaves off petting the old tom cat to point a finger at them. “Now, I won’t have any of you running right back in there trying to handle everything yourself. This is bigger than you realise, and I don’t want you to either get hurt or jeopardize this case. That goes for all three of you, Rebecca.” Becca looks offended but Grandma Dottie keeps going. “And don’t recruit your siblings or cousins either. Or your Avenger friends, Steve. The Committee has this handled.”

“Grandma, we can’t just leave this alone,” Becca protests. “They might come after Bucky and Steve and Sunday.” 

“Yeah, we can’t just let them tear Brooklyn down looking for us, that would lead them back to the shop and the family, maybe even Adrian, who can’t defend himself yet,” Bucky voices his agreement. 

“I can protect us,” Steve says. 

“Thanks, Steve, but if they come after us with magic, there’s not much you can do,” Becca says. “You don’t know enough about it.” 

“Yeah, about that.” Steve looks down at Bucky. “Why _don’t_ I know more about it? You could have been teaching me all this time.” Bucky sits up and leans back. 

“You wanted me to teach you? Steve, when we met you accused me of using it to drug people, and then you had a bad reaction when Marshall tried it on you. You expected me to want to teach you after that? I didn’t want to make you sick.” 

Steve’s jaw clenches in a way Bucky’s come to recognize as him being stubborn. “I could take it.” 

“I didn’t want to _push it_ , Steve--”

“Then why didn’t you find someone else to teach me?” 

“Oh like my parents? Who I learned it from? I wasn’t ready for you to meet my family.”

“Why, because you’re ashamed of me?” Steve demands. 

“No, because I didn’t want to push you too far and lose you!” Bucky shouts. The cats flee, and the humans go still. Bucky draws in a deep breath. “I love you, Steve, and I can’t--I can’t lose you right now.” He puts his face in his hands so he doesn’t have to see the look in Steve’s eyes or his family’s expressions, and Sunday croons softly in his ear. 

After a moment, Steve says “Hey,” and gently pulls his hands away from his face. Bucky stares down at his lap, wrists held carefully in Steve’s grip, and Steve ducks his head to meet his eyes. “Hey, Bucky. I love you too. Maybe I should’ve said before that I wanted to learn, instead of just expecting you to teach me, but you didn’t ask either. We were both in the wrong here, but you’re not going to lose me. I’m in this for the long haul.” 

Bucky turns his wrists in Steve’s hands to grab Steve’s wrists back and leans in to kiss him deeply, forgetting for a moment that Becca and Grandma Dottie are still sitting there until Grandma Dottie clears her throat. Bucky pulls back, embarrassed, and Steve kisses his cheek. 

“That’s nice, boys. Communication is key for a successful relationship,” Grandma Dottie says. Bucky feels like his face is on fire. “Can we continue now?” Becca snickers, and Bucky chooses to hide in Steve’s shoulder without replying. “Thank you.”

Steve strokes his hand down Bucky’s spine like he’s petting a cat. It feels good. “How big is this smuggling ring?” He asks. 

“International,” Grandma Dottie replies crisply. “There are agents in place all across the Atlantic. We are well equipped to handle it.” Bucky can feel Steve’s chest rise under his hand as he draws breath to argue. Grandma Dottie cuts him off with a sharp, “ _But_ I will allow you three to work with me as long as you do as I say and don’t go running off doing foolish things.” 

“Of course, Grandma Dottie. We wouldn’t do anything to risk Sunday’s safety,” Becca vows. 

~~

They order dinner for three plus Steve to the shop, and Grandma Dottie spends the next hour catching them up on the case. Bucky stays plastered to Steve’s side as much as possible, still unsettled from their argument and the knowledge of the danger Sunday is in all turning him into a clingy mess of emotion. Steve doesn’t seem inclined to put space between them either. Sunday easily crosses from one to the other and back on the bridge their shoulders make for her. Steve feeds her tidbits of his dinner, and she affectionately nips his fingers before curling back up around Bucky’s neck when she’s satisfied. 

Grandma Dottie uncurls Sunday for a brief examination to make sure she’s healthy and growing right. Bucky clutches Steve’s hand until she is placed back around his neck. 

“She’s doing well,” Grandma Dottie assures them. 

Becca tries to lure Sunday over with a bit of food but she refuses to move from Bucky, hiding herself in his hair after she pulls his hair tie loose. Steve reaches up to pet her soothingly. She chirps and settles down under his hand, holding Steve’s thumb. 

They come up with a plan of action, most of which consists of sitting around for the next few days to make sure Steve won’t be tracked down by the men in the smuggling ring who saw him. 

One of their regular customers, Miss Bridges, knocks on the door and nearly scares the crap out of them. Becca takes a deep breath and goes to peer out, only to slump in relief and let her in. Miss Bridges is full of concern about why they closed the shop so early, and Grandma Dottie reveals that she unplugged the phone when she arrived so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Bucky disentangles himself from Steve and plugs it back in, and finds that their answering machine is full and beeping angrily at them. He unplugs it again almost immediately. Becca gives Miss Bridges a brief summary of what’s going on while processing her transaction, leaving out the dragons entirely and shortening it to “Someone might be coming after Bucky’s boyfriend”. Miss Bridges leaves with the charm she came for and promises that she’ll contact Bucky and Becca’s parents and that they don’t have to worry. 

As soon as she’s gone, Grandma Dottie locks the door and goes around the shop, strengthening the wards and probably adding new ones. Bucky wraps Becca up in a hug and they hold each other for several minutes. When Grandma Dottie is done and ready to go home, she takes Becca with her so she won’t have to navigate the streets on her own in the dark. Bucky looks to Steve, who quickly says he’s staying the night. 

“I won’t leave you two alone here, even with your army of cats,” he says. Once Grandma Dottie and Becca leave, Steve locks the door behind them and then takes up his self assigned post on the couch behind the counter, where he can more easily keep an eye on the shop. Bucky reluctantly trudges upstairs with only Sunday and three cats for company. 

~

Steve is still awake three hours later when a clatter upstairs has him jolting off the couch. Before he can do much more than open the door, Bucky comes stumbling down the stairs and into his arms, clinging tightly. Sunday is perched on his head, clutching at his hair and flapping her tiny wings for balance. She screeches at Steve when he tries to pet her. 

“I had a nightmare,” Bucky gasps into his chest. “Sunday picked up on it.” 

Steve frowns and shuffles them over to the couch, his attempt to sit them down neatly ending with Bucky half-lying on him and Sunday pacing up and down their legs. 

“I dreamed that they came and hurt you and took Sunday,” Bucky says before Steve can ask. “The wards failed and you were bleeding across the floor and--”

“Hey, shh. I’m fine. The wards aren’t going to fail, and they’re not going to find us,” Steve says. 

“I know, but--”

“No buts,” Steve says firmly. “We are safe here.” Bucky shivers and goes limp in his arms. Sunday folds her wings to her sides and stops pacing. 

“Can we stay down here with you?” Bucky asks. “I don’t wanna be alone.” 

Steve hesitates for a moment. “Alright,” he concedes. “But it won’t be very comfortable with all of us on the couch.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Steve sits up and maneuvers them so he’s lying on his back, Bucky lying against his left side but mostly wedged between him and the back of the couch. Sunday curls into a ball in the center of Steve’s chest. He makes a mental note to twist and dump her off to the side if he has to get up quickly, so she won’t be sent flying across the shop. Sunday soon drifts off, a warm spot on his chest, but Bucky takes longer. 

“Steve?” he asks at a whisper. 

“Hmm?” Steve looks down and starts cardng his fingers through Bucky’s hair. 

“I’m...I’m glad you’re here. I feel safer with you here,” Bucky murmurs. Steve smiles and kisses his forehead. 

“Go to sleep, Buck. I’ll keep watch.” 

Bucky leans up for a kiss and then nuzzles his shoulder. “Okay. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Bucky.” Steve stays awake and listens as Bucky’s breathing slows to a sleeping rate. He carefully curls his hand over Sunday and keeps his senses tuned. Nothing will get past him this night.

~

Becca finds them like that when she shows up early the next morning, using her keys to open the door only wide enough for her to slip through and then immediately close and lock it again. She comes around the counter and gasps quietly, one hand flying up to her chest. 

“You scared me half to death,” she hisses when she sees that Steve is awake. She’s holding a large bag bearing the logo of a local bakery in her other hand. 

“You brought breakfast for us?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah, and I’ll go make coffee upstairs. You two come up when you’re ready.” She points threateningly at him. “Bucky better be wearing pants under that blanket.” Steve’s face goes red as Becca sails past him and heads up the stairs to Bucky’s apartment. Neither Bucky nor Sunday were disturbed by her passing, but the cats gathered around them follow Becca. Sunday lifts her head a few minutes later as if sensing their absence. She yawns in Steve’s face, flexes her claws against his chest while stretching, and then uncurls all the way and inspects Bucky’s sleeping face. Bucky grumbles and pushes her away. Sunday nips his fingers reproachfully and hops to the floor. 

“Bucky? You awake?”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles. Steve strokes the hair back from Bucky’s face and he sighs and nuzzles closer. After five minutes, Bucky sighs again and opens his eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“Becca is upstairs, she brought breakfast.” 

“Awesome, I like breakfast. Did she bring coffee too?” 

“She’s making coffee upstairs.” 

“Yay, best sister,” Bucky says sleepily. 

“Come on, sleeping beauty, let’s go get you fed,” Steve says, amused. He sits up and Bucky curls around his back. 

“Does that mean you think I’m pretty?” He asks with a flirty smile as Steve turns and stands up. 

“Yes, Buck, you’re the prettiest one here. Come on, up you get.” He pulls Bucky to his feet and guides him to the stairs. Sunday is nowhere to be seen. They find her upstairs on Bucky’s kitchen counter, accepting bits of donut from Becca’s fingers. 

“Don’t spoil my dragon,” Bucky says. Becca rolls her eyes. 

“Drink your coffee,” she says, pointing to the mug she’s poured and set on the counter. Bucky breaks away from Steve to grab the coffee. Steve leans against the counter and strokes his fingers against Sunday’s throat when she pokes at his mind. She croons and leans into him, holding his wrist with one claw so he can’t pull away. 

“She’s already spoiled,” Steve says. “Aren’t you, my little solar gem?” Sunday chirps in agreement, eyes drifting closed with pleasure. Bucky chokes on his coffee and wipes his mouth. 

“I was promised breakfast, where is it?” He says. Becca shoves the bag at him and he digs through it and pulls out a bagel. He shoves it into his mouth and it probably says something about Steve that he finds that attractive. 

“Here Steve, you better have some before Bucky drinks it all,” Becca says, holding out the coffee pot. Steve takes the pot and finds a mug to pour it in. Sunday protests him taking his attention off of her and goes over to beg for pieces of bagel from Bucky. Steve uses the opportunity to grab a muffin from the bag and eat it with his coffee. They make short work of breakfast, and then the bag gets shoved in the trash and the crumbs are cleared from the counter, floor, hands, and faces. Sunday gets an impromptu bath in the sink after she grabs a chocolate donut and happily splashes around, swimming small circles. Bucky bundles her into a towel and hands her off to Steve while he goes to change out of his pajamas. 

Becca heads downstairs to check the wards, feed the cats, and open the store for business. It’s early yet, which is good, it means Bucky and Steve have time to run over to Steve’s apartment to grab an overnight bag for him. His own apartment isn’t warded, as far as he knows, and they’ll all feel safer to have him staying at the shop with Bucky and Sunday until everything gets settled. Bucky stays in Steve’s kitchen, poking through his fridge, while Steve goes through to grab clothes from his room. He tosses in a few sets of pants and shirts, including the deep blue one that Bucky says brings out his eyes. On a whim, he tosses in his lube and condoms and, after a moment of hesitation, the three pairs of silk panties he owns. One of them happens to be the same color blue as the shirt. Then he adds his toothbrush and other bathroom things to the bag, and slips his shield into its cymbal case before he declares himself done. 

Bucky is leaning on the counter when he comes out. “I cleared out your fridge, some of the stuff in there was starting to go bad,” he says. The way he’s leaning makes his v-neck shirt gape forward, so that Steve could almost see down to his belly button, except his chest is pushed slightly out and framed by his biceps. His eyes catch the light, and his hair is twisted up in a messy bun with a pencil stuck through it, and Steve almost drops his bag. Bucky glances up to see why he froze, and then his eyes go dark and he straightens up to step around the counter, jeans tight around his thighs. 

Steve does drop his bag then. 

When they arrive back at the shop an hour later, Becca takes one look at the hickies on Bucky’s neck and throws her hands up in exasperation. 

“I don’t even wanna know why you thought that was important enough to do _now_ ,” she says. 

“It was life-affirming, Becca! Steve could’ve died yesterday!” Bucky says. Steve just smirks and moves past them to take his bags upstairs, exaggerating the hitch in his step just to hear Becca say “I don’t need to know my brother has been defiling a national icon!”

Steve takes up position on the couch again as Bucky and Becca run the store. He keeps a close eye out for any unfamiliar customers or suspicious behavior. Several of the regulars tease Bucky about his hickies. The first few also smirk and wink at Steve, making him wish they couldn’t see him. Oddly enough, after that, less and less people notice him, to the point one woman jumps in surprise when Bucky points to him on the couch. Bucky sends a thoughtful frown his way between customers. 

When Bucky takes a lunch break, he drops straight onto Steve’s lap and kisses him, Steve’s arms automatically going around his waist. “I want to try something out after we close,” Bucky murmurs. “I was thinking about your magic and you’re right, we do need to learn about it.” 

“Okay,” Steve agrees. They go upstairs for Bucky’s lunch break after Bobby appears in the shop and sends them off. 

“Your heart-eyes are making me nauseous,” he claims. 

They spend the first half of the break just making out, the morning’s mood not having quite released them yet. Bucky just has time to make and eat a sandwich before he has to be back downstairs. Steve takes a few minutes to compose himself and change his underwear before following him down. 

The rest of Steve’s day is spent full of anticipation for after the shop closes. Bucky even makes up some signs and posts them around the shop, saying that they will be having shorter hours that week due to shop maintenance. Sunday flits around, spending five or ten minutes at a time with each of them before she’s back to following the cats around. No one suspects she’s anything more than the kitten she appears to be. 

Bobby walks Becca home at the end of the day, leaving Bucky and Steve to close up the shop by themselves. Once they finish and head upstairs, Steve starts vibrating with hopeful energy, but instead Bucky turns to his bookshelf and flips through a heavy volume, frowning in concentration. Steve, at a loss, turns to the kitchen to find them some dinner. Bucky wanders in twenty minutes later, after Steve has made some simple pasta dish, set the table, and washed all the dirty dishes. He’s drying his hands when he senses something flying at him. 

“Shield!” Bucky calls, and Steve lifts his arm as he turns in place. A small throw pillow bounces off the air in front of him where his shield would normally be, and he blinks in surprise. “I thought so.” He looks over to see Bucky grinning at him. “Part of your magic is a shield.” 

“What does that mean?” Steve asks, picking the pillow up off the floor. 

“It means you can physically shield yourself with magic, but also kind of shield yourself from people’s thoughts and eyes. It keeps people from recognizing you when you don’t want to be recognized, or seen when you don’t want to be seen. You were starting to turn yourself invisible on the couch downstairs, people looked right at you without seeing you,” Bucky says enthusiastically. “Oh my god, you made dinner! You are the best boyfriend.” He grabs Steve’s face in his hands and kisses him, and Steve pointedly doesn’t make a sound when Bucky pulls back far sooner than he’d like. “I’ll explain it to you while we eat.” 

Bucky keeps his word, and they spend half an hour going over the particulars of what shielding magic can do, and the ways Steve may have been using it subconsciously. It’s a lot to take in, and Steve is honestly feeling a little overwhelmed. He lets Bucky take care of cleaning up after dinner, lost in thought at the table. Bucky drapes himself across Steve’s back when he’s done. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed. You can spend all day tomorrow thinking about it.” He punctuates the sentence with a nip to Steve’s ear. “I know you didn’t sleep last night, let me help you relax.” 

“Where’s Sunday?” Steve asks. 

“She’s safe on the couch. The shop’s locked up tight, no one’s getting in. Come on, babe. Bed.” 

Steve lets Bucky pull him up out of his seat and through to the bedroom. Sunday is sleeping in a cat pile on the couch and doesn’t stir when they pass. They close the door so none of the cats or Sunday can follow them in, and Bucky slowly and gently strips Steve’s clothes off him. When he gets down to the underwear he pauses, running a finger over the edge of the white lace panels on Steve’s hips. 

“Steve,” he says breathlessly. 

“Do you like them?” Steve asks, a touch nervously. 

“Yes, I like them. You’re gorgeous.” Bucky looks up at him and then sinks to his knees and, soon enough, Steve is the one who’s breathless. 

~~

The next day sees them finding it difficult to separate. Part of it is euphoria, Steve knows, the bliss of skin contact and the pleasure shared between two people. However, it’s overshadowed by the danger they’re in. Becca shows up to the shop tired, anxious, and irritable, trailing Alice in her wake. She glares at Bucky and Steve for cuddling up together on the couch and, later, even snaps at Bucky for smiling at Steve. This sparks off an argument that results in Bucky hiding out in his apartment upstairs while Becca slams the door to the storage room as she goes in there to sulk. Alice takes over the counter and soothes away the concerns of all the customers who didn’t leave during the argument. Steve has his hands full with Sunday. Feeling cooped up from the last few days of keeping her safe and hidden in the shop, she’s picking up on the tension in the air and Bucky’s foul mood through their bond. Steve found her chewing her way through a box of new books stashed behind the counter, the edges of the intact pages covered in scorch marks like someone showered sparks ito the box. He resorts to trying to contain her in his lap. She bites his hands in return. 

Dinner at the shop brings a truce between the twins, who have been back at their posts but glaring at each other since lunch. Sunday wraps herself around Bucky’s neck tight enough to choke him. Steve has to help him loosen her hold, and then drags Bucky into a hug that lasts for five minutes until the tension has seeped out of him. When Becca is still glaring at them after they part, Steve goes over and hugs her too. She struggles for a minute and then gives in, going limp in his arms. Alice closes up the shop around them, and then teases Steve that she doesn’t rate a hug just because her name starts with A instead of B. All four of them end up tangled up on the couch with cats piled on top. They eat dinner in a subdued, tired quiet, Alice cheerfully feeding bits of food to Sunday. 

“She’s a growing dragon, she needs her strength,” Alice defends when Bucky frowns at her. 

Marshall and Veronica show up to walk Becca home afterwards. Alice opts to spend the night on the couch in the shop, winking at Steve when she corrals Sunday between her hands. Steve ushers Bucky upstairs and closes the door before Sunday can follow them. He gives Bucky a massage to make the tension drain out of his shoulders, unsubtly moving closer and closer until he’s plastered against Bucky’s back, hands lightly rubbing his inner thighs. Bucky takes the hint and lies on his back on the bed, letting Steve undress them both down to skin for Bucky and underwear for Steve. Steve straddles Bucky’s hips, showing off the green panties he’s been wearing all day in anticipation of this stress relief. 

He keeps them on through their activities even though he’s sure they’re probably ruined by it. Bucky keeps his hand on them as they fall asleep. 

The third day has them all irritated with each other. Bucky and Sunday haven’t left the shop in days, and while Steve has been used to sitting around waiting for things to happen in the war, this is different. They’re all going stir-crazy, hoping for something to change. Not even Steve wearing his favorite blue sweater can keep Bucky happy for long. Becca takes to avoiding them whenever possible. 

Steve does, at least, get to meet another Barnes relative. Or rather, a Fischer relative. 

“I’m Joel, Veronica’s older brother,” he introduces himself. He has a strong handshake, Steve notes. “I gave Bucky and Becca all of their tattoos.” Joel has several tattoos himself, including a flock of black birds on his forearm and a highly detailed feather on the left side of his neck, from just below his ear to right above his collarbone. “Bucky mentioned you were maybe interested in getting one yourself?” 

“Oh, um, yeah.” Steve shoots a glance at Bucky, who’s busy with Mrs Callahan. “I was thinking about getting something for my mother.” 

“Memorial tattoo?” Joel asks. Steve just nods. “I’m sorry for your loss, man. I’m always up for talking over ideas, and hey, if you figure out what you want, it’s on the house.” 

Steve blinks in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.” 

Joel nods at Bucky over his shoulder. “He talks about you like you hung the moon. You’re family now. You’ve made him so happy, it’s the least I can do for my baby cousin.” 

“We are three months younger than you,” Becca says, frowning at them for as long as it takes her to grab something from behind the counter and return to helping a customer. 

Having Joel there seems to ease the atmosphere in the shop. Something about him just seems to soothe nerves and mellow out tempers. They all start to relax over the course of the day, which of course means that that afternoon, something finally Goes Wrong. 

~~

Bucky’s about run out of food in his apartment, and while he could send Joel, he’s been cooped up in the shop for three days and he needs to see something other than the walls he’s already so familiar with. He swears up and down that he’s just going to the corner store down the street, it’ll only take him half an hour at most, he’ll be absolutely fine, but he has to go out and do something or he’s going to lose his mind. Steve still insists on going with him. Two heads are better than one, he says, and he can keep an eye out while Bucky shops. 

Leaving Sunday behind is a struggle. She’s been cooped up just as long as Bucky, and even Joel can’t soothe her for long. Becca distracts her with treats with Bucky and Steve sneak out the door. They use the opportunity to hold hands where Becca can’t see and tease them for it. No one really pays attention to them, the streets full of busy New Yorkers who can’t be bothered to get upset by two men in love. 

They make it to the store in a few minutes and begin wandering down the aisles, trying to figure out where things have been placed since the store’s recent remodel. While Bucky is frowning and contemplating the differences between two sacks of pancake mix, Steve goes tense beside him. 

“Bucky, someone’s watching us,” he mutters, leaning in and pointing to one of the sacks. Bucky grabs it on autopilot, still processing his words. 

“Watching in what way?” Bucky mutters back, frowning at the grocery list in his hand. 

“In a way I don’t like.” He guides Bucky into the next aisle with a hand in the small of his back, acting casual. Bucky just tries to follow his lead, picking out a box of cereal. 

“What are we going to do?” Bucky asks, peering up at the aisle sign. Two men are loitering at the end of the aisle. One is examining a display of oatmeal, but the other isn’t bothering with subtlety, staring at them. Bucky swallows and looks at Steve. He’s staring down the other end of the aisle, where another two men are standing. 

“Can you fight?” Steve asks, looking at him. 

“Kind of?” Bucky hesitates. “Not like you can, though.” 

“Okay. Stay close to me, we’re gonna try to get out of here,” Steve says. Before Bucky can do anything, Steve grabs the pancake mix out of the basket and throws it with unerring accuracy. It hits one of the men in the face and he goes down hard. Immediately the other three have their guns drawn, but Steve and Bucky are already halfway down the aisle. Steve punches out the one man standing and drags Bucky towards the doors, their basket left behind. At least a dozen men swarm the door, each of them with guns out, and other customers scream and take cover. Cashiers duck behind their counters, and Bucky’s sure at least one of them has set off a silent alarm. 

Steve, though, dives right into the mob like he’s invulnerable, too close now for them to shoot without hitting each other, and laays into them. Bucky can’t stand there and do nothing, so he grabs a can from a nearby display and throws it at the men, using his magic to make sure it won’t hit Steve. He grabs another, and another, and soon most of the men are on the ground. One brave cashier starts collecting fallen guns and stashing them behind her counter when the men aren’t looking. Bucky starts to think they might actually get out okay, when he feels something sharp against his neck. 

“Freeze! Or I’ll slit his throat!” The man behind Bucky shouts, one arm tight around his chest. Steve knocks out the man in front of him and looks up. He glares at the man holding Bucky, nostrils flaring, face slightly red from exertion, and something must be wrong with Bucky for him to find that hot right now. Steve kicks a man at his feet who’s reaching for a gun, and then lowers his fists. Instantly men swarm him, grabbing his arms and pulling them behind his back. Steve and Bucky are both forced out of the store towards a cluster of shady looking vans, and just as Bucky thinks it can’t get any worse, he hears a familiar screech above him. Jerking his head up, his mouth drops open. Sunday is somehow, miraculously hovering above him. She’s wobbly in the air, unsure of her balance, evidence of her inexperience. 

“She’s flying,” Bucky says softly. The next second he shouts in outrage as a net is tossed over Sunday, tangling up her wings and sending her crashing to the ground. Steve shouts as well, struggling against his bonds, but someone punches him in the head and shoves him into a van. Bucky is pushed towards the same van, twisting around to watch Sunday. 

“Tranq the dragon,” one of the men orders. 

“Don’t hurt her!” Bucky pleads. Something sharp slides under his skin, making him twitch, and he’s shoved into the van on top of Steve. Before he can see what they do with Sunday, the door is slammed shut, and then whatever drug they gave him takes effect and he blacks out. 

~~

The smugglers are moronic assholes. It’s an easy conclusion to come to, one Steve has had since he first saw the big dragon in the warehouse. Watching them tie Bucky up before shoving him into the van, Steve understands why Dottie is so cautious. When they shove Sunday into a pet carrier big enough for her to lay down in and she gets put in next to Bucky, a gun held to Steve at all times, he realizes that they might just be the most stupid captors he’s ever had.

They screech out of the parking lot. Steve’s head bumps the wall of the van every time they take a sharp turn. All of the turns are sharp, and Steve’s vision starts to blur and keeps fixing itself abruptly. He’s still able to track everything, though the lengths between turns might be off.

The way they’re sitting, Steve can’t turn to look at Bucky without straining his neck, so he stares at Sunday. She keeps standing up and laying back down, completely restrained. Smoke leaks out of her nose, a sign of distress if Steve ever saw one. Several of the assholes notice, and one snaps, “Make her quit that! It stinks!”

Steve knows better than to taunt his captors, he really does. But he’s never cared about what he should and should not do, so he growls back, “Maybe if she wasn’t stuck in a cage, seeing her owners in distress, she’d stop!”

“Shut the flip up, or we’ll shoot your brains out.”

“Is that the best threat you can think of?”

It’s safe to say that Steve spends the ride bickering with his captors, who keep saying things they think will scare him but don’t. It pisses them off terribly, which would be funny if Steve didn’t have a part of his family in dire straits, but they don’t do anything. The driver keeps shouting, “Enough!” The dumbasses listen for a while, but Steve doesn’t.

By the time Steve, Bucky, and Sunday are pulled out of the van into a different warehouse, Steve has endeared himself to no one. They tie him to a pole in the ground that seems to have multiple purposes, and drop Bucky on the floor just out of reach. Sunday goes to the other side of the room, where the assholes stare at her and talk about her and how much they can get for her.

Rumlow, the guy from before, is here and he smirks at Steve like a dickhead. He has a whole spiel about how Steve and Bucky are about to lose Sunday forever. Steve spits in his face and asks which TV show he got the plot from. Rumlow promptly backhands him, and Steve spits blood to the side. 

“You try that again and I’ll take it out on your pretty little boyfriend,” Rumlow threatens. 

“If you touch him, I’m gonna tear you apart,” Steve says back. Rumlow sneers and stalks off, kicking Sunday’s cage as he passes just to hear her screech. Steve finds himself wishing she could breathe fire just to watch Rumlow go up in flames, but all she produces is more smoke. He hears Rumlow ask why the sedative they gave him doesn’t work, and the other man stammers that he doesn’t know. Rumlow smacks him too and sends him running. Rumlow stalks back over to him and stares at him while Steve glares back. He can see it when the recognition dawns in Rumlow’s eyes. 

“I know you. You’re Captain America, aren’t you?” he asks. Steve doesn’t grace him with a response, but Rumlow chuckles. “Give him a triple dose,” he orders to the other man’s replacement. 

“Triple? But sir--”

“Trust me,” Rumlow interrupts, eyes glittering maliciously. “He can take it.”

~~

Bucky wakes up stiff, sore, and cold, on a hard floor in a building he doesn’t recognize. He shifts with a groan and tries to move his hands, but they’re tied behind him. 

“Bucky? You awake?” Steve slurs somewhere nearby. Bucky twists around until he can see him. Steve’s tied to a pole and drooping in his bonds. “Hey. Hey, it’s good you’re awake.” 

“Where are we? Are you okay? Where’s Sunday?” Bucky asks, tugging at his wrists. 

“We’re in some ugly gross warehouse,” Steve says. “Those assholes took Sunday to take tests. They drugged me but I’m fine. Are you okay?” 

“I’ll be better once we get out of here,” Bucky says. He twists around, checking for guards or cameras and, seeing none, uses his magic to untie the ropes. He hurries over to Steve and frees him, wincing at the pins and needles in his legs. Steve slumps forward and Bucky catches his weight. “Come on, Steve, snap out of it. I know you’re stronger than this, and I need you to help me find Sunday and break out of here.” 

Steve clutches him for a minute, pulling in deep breaths. “Okay, I’m okay. Let’s go.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeahe. We gotta get to Sunday before they hurt her.” He pulls away from Bucky and only wobbles a little. Bucky makes sure he stays close as they creep towards the door. 

Somehow the two of them manage to sneak through the hallways without being seen. Steve points Bucky in the direction he thinks they took Sunday, his awareness slowly returning to him. They have a few close calls, and have to duck into a closet and then a bathroom. Once, they hear voices just around a corner, and they hold their breath as the voices approach, pause, and then recede again. Bucky sees a door leading outside and makes note of its location. 

They eventually stumble upon a room where they can hear soft dragon cries. But when they peek through the door, it isn’t Sunday they see. Instead, strapped to a table is a little blue and green dragon, smaller than Sunday and with rounded scales and wings where hers are pointed. The dragon is pinned on its back, wings, tail, and neck extended and strapped down. The cries are pouring from its open mouth. There’s a scientist bent over it, and whenever the scientist removes their hands, the cries increase. 

“Shut it up, will you?” The scientist says, straightening up with a vial of orange fluid that’s thick like blood in their hands. A black-clad guard steps forward as the scientist steps away to put the vial in a fridge. He takes a strip of leather from his pocket and wraps it around the dragon’s head, forcing its mouth closed and covering its eyes. The dragon croons mournfully and something boils inside Bucky. 

He steps back from the door and looks at Steve, who meets his eyes. Without speaking, he knows they’re thinking the same thing. “Can you manifest a shield?” Bucky asks softly. The sibilant sounds of whispers tend to carry farther than expected, he knows, so he doesn’t whisper. Steve frowns and shrugs. He’s only been actively practicing his magic for a few days. “Just imagine that you are holding your physical shield, and that you’re going to throw it at them. Feel the weight in your hands, the texture of the strap and the metal. Calculate your angles.” 

Steve nods and leans around him, studying the room with sharp eyes, then lifts his arm and throws. The guard and scientist both go down, and Bucky rushes in, straight to the table. The vial full of clear fluid that the scientist was about to inject into the dragon crunches under his shoes. Steve is right beside him, tearing at the straps. They scoop the dragon up into Bucky’s arms and hurry back into the hallway, Steve holding his magical shield ready on his left arm, his right hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Before they can get far, an alarm sounds in the hallway, and they hear Sunday’s familiar screeching up ahead. They storm around the corner to see her flying tight circles, battering at several guards with her wings as they try to grab her. She blows smoke and scratches them and tugs on their hair with her claws, and they swear at her and grasp at air seconds after she’s moved out of reach. 

“Sunday!” Bucky calls. She lets out a joyous cry and flies over to them. Steve throws his shield as Bucky grabs Sunday and they take off running back the way they came. Sunday squirms around and gets free, hopping over to wrap around Steve’s neck. Steve takes the lead as they approach the door, lifting his shield again, and knocks the door clear off its hinges as he charges through, Bucky close behind. They run for the road as people shout behind them. A car pulls up with squealing tires. 

“Get in!” Grandma Dottie says through the open window. Steve yanks the back door open and they cram in. They barely get the door closed behind them before Grandma Dottie takes off again. 

“You boys are just magnets for trouble,” she tsks. Bucky and Steve collapse against each other, too tired to argue. 

~~

They get the muzzle off the little blue and green dragon as they drive away from the warehouse. It lets out a perilous cry and Sunday climbs down Steve to go investigate, perching on Steve’s leg and extending her neck over to the dragon in Bucky’s lap. She chirps at it and it croons back, and the tension in the little body seeps out. It flops limply in Bucky’s lap and Steve watches as he carefully strokes his hands over it, looking for injuries, but doesn’t find any obvious ones. The dragon works up the energy to wrap its tail loosely around Bucky’s wrist. 

“Are you adopting another one?” Dottie asks. 

“We couldn’t just leave it there,” Steve says stubbornly, setting his jaw. Dottie sighs and doesn’t speak again until they arrive at a medium-sized house, light blue with darker blue trim. The front yard is an organized mess of rose bushes and other large plants that Steve can’t identify. Vines cover the fence, and through them Steve can barely see a neat brick path winding its way through the plants. She pulls her car straight into the garage and doesn’t get out until the door has closed behind them. 

“Come on, let’s get inside and I’ll take a look at the little one,” she says. Bucky and Steve each collect a dragon and traipse after her into the house, taking their shoes off when she gives them a look. Sunday clings to Steve’s arms, claws pricking his skin without really hurting, looking around curiously instead of going off to investigate like she normally would. The other dragon stays curled up in Bucky’s arms. 

Dottie leads them to a sitting room full of cushy furniture and waves at them to sit. She heads through a connecting doorway into a kitchen before they’ve even moved. Bucky lowers himself onto the couch and Steve sits next to him, close enough he has to put his arm around Bucky. Bucky lowers his head onto Steve’s shoulder and they watch as Sunday moves over to sniff at the dragon some more. 

“Are we going to keep it?” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s hair. 

“I don’t know. Do you think we can handle two dragons?” Bucky looks up at him. 

“You already manage two dozen cats, a second dragon shouldn’t be too much trouble.” Steve shrugs. “Sunday seems to like it okay.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl. Do you think that would cause problems?”

“It’s still just a baby though, right? I mean, it’s smaller than Sunday,” Steve says, reaching over to stroke the tiny head. The dragon croons at him and closes its eyes, leaning into his fingers. “Besides, it seems sweet.” 

“Yeah but it just escaped from a traumatic experience. Who knows how that might affect it?” Bucky says worriedly. 

Dottie bustles in from the kitchen with a tray in her hands, bearing a teapot, a plate of cookies, and several cups and small dishes. Steve half rises by reflex but she has the tray set down on the coffee table in front of them before he can do more than that. “Hush, you two. And sit down,” she scolds Steve. “Eat some cookies, drink some tea, and let me see that dragon.” She scoops the blue and green dragon from Bucky’s lap and sits beside him on the couch. Steve presses against the arm to make more room for her on Bucky’s other side. The dragon squeaks but quickly settles in her hands as she brushes light fingers over it and lifts it above her head, eyeing it critically. While she does this, Bucky pours three cups of tea and lets Sunday sniff and taste his before settling back against Steve. The tea smells strongly of flowers. 

“Well, this one is certainly male,” Dottie announces, stroking her hand over his wings. “Probably a half brother to your little one, though how Hydra got ahold of a breeding male, I don’t know.” 

“A breeding male?” Steve echoes, holding back a flinch at the name. 

“Of course. Female dragons can produce eggs on their own, like chickens, but the hatchlings will only be female. It takes the involvement of a male to create male hatchlings.” She lowers the dragon to her lap, where he curls up and Sunday goes to join him. “Steve, you’re not drinking your tea,” she says reproachfully. Steve obediently picks up a cup and takes a sip. It’s better than he would have expected from the strong smell and violently pink color. 

“Grandma Dottie makes this tea from her own rose bushes,” Bucky says. “It’s where Becca and I got the idea to make our own teas for the shop.” He turns to Dottie. “Is he okay though?” 

“Well I’m no doctor, but he seems fine. He’ll recover given some proper care and rest,” she says. Bucky relaxes against Steve and reaches out one hand to stroke the dragon’s head, smiling. Steve wraps an arm around him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. It may be peaceful now, safe here in Dottie’s house, but he can’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing is finally done, I hope you've enjoyed it!

Steve goes tense when he hears rapid footsteps outside. Bucky looks up at him, a question forming on his lips, but before he can ask it, Becca bursts through the door. 

“Are you guys okay?” She demands, rushing over to pat at Bucky. 

“Becca, Becca stop, we’re fine!” Bucky says, batting her hands away. Steve goes loose again, seeing that there’s no threat. Joel trails behind Becca into the room. 

“Hi Grandma,” he says, waving. 

“Hello Joel,” Dottie says warmly. “Oh, Rebecca, please do come in, thank you for knocking,” she adds sarcastically. Becca flushes pink in embarrassment but doesn’t stop her inspection of Bucky and then Sunday, plucking the dragon right off of their laps. Sunday squawks in protest. Bucky puts down his teacup. 

“Becca, calm down, we’re all fine,” he says. 

“Well I didn’t know that!” Becca bursts out. “You went down the street to the store and then Sunday got out and then you were abducted! We didn’t know what had happened or if you were even alive until Grandma messaged us!” She shoves Sunday into Steve’s surprised hands and throws herself on Bucky. “I thought you’d died!” 

Bucky meets Steve’s eyes over her head and then hugs his sister while Steve works on calming Sunday back down. She curls around his neck and bites his ear, hissing softly. The little male dragon is cowering under Dottie’s hands, curled as small as he can manage. Steve gives Bucky a nudge and helps heave him up to his feet. Bucky shuffles around the coffee table, Becca clinging to him the whole time, and flops down on the other sofa where they can cuddle properly. Steve slides over into Bucky’s vacated seat in the middle of the couch and Joel sits next to him. Sunday hisses when Joel reaches for her, but he begins crooning some German lullaby at her and she chirps and allows him to pet her. 

With Sunday distracted, Steve reaches out to the little dragon, petting gently over his sides and head, wherever he can reach. Gradually he uncurls, bit by bit, and slinks over to Steve, full of hesitation. Steve gives him a soft smile and he eventually settles in Steve’s lap, curled up under his hands. Steve keeps petting him the whole time, murmuring encouraging words. Dottie pats his knee and uses it to push herself up off the couch. 

“Clearly we need more teacups,” she says, heading back into the kitchen. On Steve’s other side, Joel has coaxed Sunday onto his shoulder so she’s no longer strangling Steve with her entire body. When Dottie comes back with more cups and cookies, Joel is coaxing Sunday with a dish full of milk. 

“I think we need to go on the offensive,” Steve says, instantly gaining everyone’s attention. 

“What do you mean?” Joel asks. 

“I mean that hiding out hoping that they wouldn’t find us clearly didn’t work. We need to take the fight to them. It’s the only way we can stop them from hurting more dragons.” 

“But Steve, I told you, the Committee is handling it,” Dottie says. 

Steve looks right at her. “No offense, but I haven’t seen any sign of your committee anywhere.” 

“He’s right, Grandma,” Bucky says, sitting up. Becca sits up too. “They already know where we live. Even if it’s warded, we can’t stay in there forever. Eventually they would get us again.” 

Joel nods in agreement, and Dottie looks around at them all, frustrated. When even Sunday chirps her agreement, and the little male peeks his head out between Steve’s fingers, Dottie throws her hands up. “Fine! What do you have in mind?” She asks. 

Steve leans forward, catching everyone’s eyes in turn. “Here’s what we’ll do.” 

~~

Bucky creeps along at Steve’s back, keeping his senses tuned. He’s nervous, even though he keeps telling himself not to be. Sunday and the little guy, newly named Tuesday, are back at the shop with Alice and Bobby, even though both dragons protested being left behind. No one wanted to risk them getting hurt. Steve and Bucky are at the warehouse that Steve first tracked the smuggling ring to, the one where he ran into the big dragon. Their goal tonight is to free that dragon and any others they may find. 

Steve had called in the rest of the Avengers for this “mission”. He’s in the newest version of his uniform to make it more surreal. He’s done away with the red in this one, just dark blue and a silvery white. Bucky would think it was hot if he wasn’t so stressed, even if he does think the Captain America shield on his back makes a target of him. Several members of Bucky’s family are also involved, including Grandma Dottie, Becca, Joel, Marshall, and Veronica. They and the Avengers are divided up, some of each heading to all known locations of the smuggling ring. There are six, including the place Bucky and Steve are at now and the one they were kidnapped to earlier that day. Iron Man is stationed on the other side of the building, out of sight, in case they need help, and Veronica is somewhere behind them, waiting with the getaway car. 

Bucky wipes sweat off his forehead and reaches out to touch Steve’s back just to reassure himself. Steve pats his wrist and tugs him into a shadowy doorway. 

“You doing okay?” Steve asks, voice so low Bucky can barely hear it. He nods anyway and rests his head briefly on Steve’s shoulder. They stand there for a minute until, as planned, a small shed nearby disappears in an explosion of fireworks. The Hydra agents swarm like bees to the shed, and Bucky and Steve take the opportunity to slip into the warehouse unnoticed. Once inside, Steve shields them, and they don’t bother with stealth. 

The dragon is kept in the largest room of the warehouse, with a few circling hallways and several offices surrounding it. They break down doors as they go. Most of them are empty offices and storage rooms, but they happen on one poor agent sitting on a toilet. He raises his hands in surrender, and Bucky slowly backs out of the bathroom. Steve steps in past him, makes sure the agent has no weapons or a way to call for help or reinforcements, and then barricades the door before they move on. 

The only rooms that looked used are a few of the offices and a couple larger storage rooms, but they’re empty of both people and dragons. 

“Is the distraction holding?” Steve asks through their earpiece. 

“Affirmative, Cap,” Iron Man replies, and it’s still weird for Bucky to hear his voice so...personally. “The fireworks show is still going and they’re trying to put it out before it spreads or the fire trucks show up.”

“Alright. We haven’t met any trouble in here. Heading for the dragon now.” He glances at Bucky and then moves ahead, taking the lead since he knows better where to go than Bucky does. The door they stop at looks like any other door in the building. Steve signals for silence before opening it and slipping inside. After a moment, he signals for Bucky to join him. Bucky takes a deep breath and follows, closing the door behind him. 

The room is pitch black, but he can sense the bulk of the dragon taking up most of the big space. If he listens closely, he can hear her breathing. 

A hand closes around his wrist and he wills himself not to jump. “She’s got shackles around each leg, her neck, tail, and wings,” Steve reminds him, voice low. “We won’t be able to get them all off without waking her up. When she wakes up, I need you to distract her while I keep working on them. Okay?” 

Bucky takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.” 

“I’ll be shielding you so she can’t hurt you.” Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s temple and steps away, disappearing instantly in the dark. Bucky can hear him edging around the room. He waits until he hears the faint metallic sounds of Steve trying to open the manacle and then he steps forward blindly, hands stretched out. His fingertips ghost across something leathery and warm. It twitches under his hand, and he follows the shape of it until he touches metal instead. He does his best to project calming thoughts as he searches for the lock. The metal begins vibrating under his hand, and he looks up to see one large eye is open and peering at him. 

“Hey. Hey gorgeous, hey beautiful,” Bucky whispers. He gulps. “Doing okay there, huh?” Steve mutters a curse and the dragon lifts her head, turning towards him. Bucky grabs the metal collar around her neck so he won’t lose it and gets dragged along as she turns. Her growl ramps up and she lunges for Steve, teeth snapping closed. 

“Shit!” Steve shouts, stumbling away. Her body seems to swell against Bucky’s, and he puts all of his magical energy into willing the metal lock to let go. It springs free, dropping to the ground with a clang, and the dragon is drawn up short by her sudden freedom. She spins back around to look at Bucky with both eyes. 

“We just want to free you,” he says, holding his hands out, palms up. “They have held you here for too long and used you and your children for their own gain. Will you allow us to help you?” 

The dragon eyes him thoughtfully, and Bucky is sure Steve is holding his breath. After a minute, the dragon lowers her head to the floor, still watching Bucky. He carefully steps forward and places his hands on her nose when she doesn’t protest. Her skin starts to glow under his hands, and yellow slowly spreads out across her body, illuminating her and lighting up the room. Bucky can see when Steve steps away from the wall to go back to work, and the dragons twitches and growls low, but otherwise doesn’t move. 

“Thank you,” Bucky says. He moves around to get started on one of her forelegs, and she turns her head to follow him. 

_“You have been in contact with my children,”_ a voice says in his head, so powerful it nearly brings him to his knees. 

“Yes,” he gasps, clinging to her side. 

“Bucky? Are you okay?” Steve calls. 

“I’m fine! Keep going!” He calls back. A loud clang of metal answers him. Bucky gathers himself and starts working on the manacle. “Steve and I accidentally bonded with a new hatchling a month ago, after we found her egg. Today we rescued another little one. They were hurting him, and they had deprived him of a bond.” The dragon growls. “We didn’t want to let that happen to any others, so we have friends looking for the other babies and eggs to rescue them.” 

_“They always take my eggs from me,”_ the dragon grumbles. The manacle hits the ground and Bucky sways against her shoulder. 

“Which is why we’re taking them back,” Bucky answers. He starts to move back around her head and she lifts it up so he can duck under her neck instead to get to the other side. Bucky practically falls on her other leg, the combined effects of her voice in his head and the struggle of using his magic in a way that doesn’t come naturally wearing him down quickly. The dragon nudges his back with her nose and energy starts to seep back into his limbs. It’s warm and makes his skin tingle. “Are you doing that?” Bucky asks. She doesn’t answer, but he can sense amusement from her. He uses the energy she gives him to open the manacle, and Steve breaks open another. 

“That’s it except for the wings, I think,” Steve says, walking around the dragon. “How do we get up there?” Bucky looks up as well. The wings are a good five feet above their heads. He supposes he could sit on Steve’s shoulders to reach them, because he definitely doesn’t think he can climb her smooth sides. 

Once Steve rounds her head and is out of the way, the dragon rolls over onto her side, putting her wings within reach. 

“...I guess that works,” Steve says. He glances over and does a double take. “Bucky, you’re glowing!” 

“I am?” Bucky asks, slumped against the dragon’s muzzle. He slides off and looks down at his hands. They look normal to him. 

“You were when you were touching her,” Steve says, coming closer. He looks Bucky up and down and then cups his face in his hands. “Are you doing okay?” 

“I’m...I’m tired,” Bucky answers. “This is taking more out of me than I expected.” 

Steve frowns and kisses him, making his lips tingle with the dragon’s residual energy. “We’ll hurry and get this done and then you can rest, okay?” 

“Okay,” Bucky answers, slightly dazed. He takes a step back and the dragon’s head whips out, pressing from his shoulders to his knees and keeping him from going farther. 

_“Careful,”_ she warns. Bucky looks down and sees he nearly stepped on a cluster of three small eggs, glinting red, blue, and purple in the reflection of her yellow glow. 

“Oh, they’re beautiful,” he says. The dragon rumbles in pleasure and Steve pulls him farther away so he won’t step on them. 

_“I won’t let them take these from me.”_ She curls her neck around them. 

Steve and Bucky move around to reach her wings. Each one is clamped tightly in three places. Bucky goes down to the end closer to her tail and they begin work. As soon as he touches her again, the energy rushes back into him, making him gasp. Steve looks over but doesn’t say anything. The clamps fall off more easily than the manacles, or maybe it’s just that she’s helping him. He and Steve meet in the middle, with only one left. Steve puts a supporting hand on his back and watches as he makes it fall off. With that, she’s free of her shackles, and she rolls to her feet and spreads her wings in the limited space. Without the contact, Bucky sways back into Steve’s arms. 

“We need to get you out of here,” Steve says. 

“We can’t leave her yet,” Bucky protests. The dragon looks at them. 

_“I can’t fly yet, my wings are too stiff. I can get myself out when I am ready. I can protect my eggs until then. Go and help the little ones,”_ she says. 

“Holy crap,” Steve mutters, indicating he heard it too. 

As if to prove her point, a door opens behind her and a guard steps through. “Hey, what-- ” Quick as lightning, her tail whips out and slams the guard against the wall. He falls the floor, unconscious or dead. 

_“Go,”_ she repeats. _“And be safe.”_

Steve hoists Bucky up on his shoulders and sets an invisibility shield over them. They hurry out of the warehouse and make it back to the car where Veronica waits. 

“Is Bucky okay?” She demands as he slides off of Steve’s shoulders. 

“I think he’ll be fine. He used a lot of magic back there,” Steve says, setting him inside the car and staring at him with worry. Bucky attempts to smile reassuringly but he’s sure it just looks silly. 

“I am fine, and so are you,” he says. Veronica snickers. Steve rolls his eyes but smiles back. Before he can say anything, an old man pops out of thin air, smiles, grabs Steve’s arm, and disappears with him. 

~~

Steve suddenly finds himself at the second warehouse, with Becca, Dottie, and two women he doesn’t recognize clustered around him. “What the f-- ” he starts, turning, but the old man is already gone. A second later he reappears with Veronica, and Steve automatically reaches out to catch her as she stumbles. Then the man is gone again. 

“What the hell?” Steve mumbles, looking around as Veronica steadies herself on his chest. 

“One of the warehouses was empty. They probably just used it as a meeting place,” Becca says. “We’re all meeting up back here because Joel called for reinforcements.” 

“Where’s Bucky?” Steve demands. 

“Oh flip, I’m gonna throw up,” Bucky says behind him. Steve spins around to see Bucky still sitting in the car, the old man clutching one of Bucky’s arms and the doorframe. Bucky looks pale and nauseous. Steve hands Veronica over to Becca and hurries over, cupping Bucky’s cheek and studying him. He’s sweaty and holding his stomach. The earlier glow and giddiness are gone. 

“Are you okay? What happened? Who’s this?” Steve demands. 

“That’s Uncle Joe,” Bucky mumbles. “He can teleport. Never seen him do a car though.” He leans over to the side, gagging. Becca comes over and presses her hand to his forehead, and he shivers in relief. “Thanks, Becca.” 

“We don’t have time for you to be sick right now,” she says gently. “Joel’s inside the building, he says there’s an egg about to hatch and we don’t know what to do with it. Any advice, big brother?” She pushes his hair back from his face and he looks up at her. 

“I know you’ve applied for a dragon license. You should bond with it,” Bucky says. Becca reels back in surprise and Steve catches her shoulder. “Really, Becca. We can’t just let it go unbonded. You’re ready for it after taking care of Sunday, and I know you want it. Go do it.”

Becca looks around Steve at Dottie, who raises an eyebrow. “What are you looking at me for? You’re an adult, you don’t need my permission.” 

Becca beams and ducks to kiss Bucky’s head before darting off to the building, Veronica on her heels. Steve can see that Hawkeye is holding the door open for them. He follows them in, and Steve feels better that they’ll have backup from someone on his team. 

“Hey, uh, Cap?” 

Steve reaches up to his ear. “Yes, Iron Man?” 

“Where did you guys go? The car is gone and the building’s a little bit on fire,” Tony says. 

“Apparently there’s a teleporter on our side. We’re at Hawkeye’s warehouse,” he says. He hears Tony mumble something about teleporting, mostly covered by the sound of his jets. Steve crouches down to check on Bucky, peering up into his face. Bucky smiles and leans on the doorframe. 

“Hey handsome,” Bucky says. 

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Steve asks. 

“Like someone put me in the wash, but on a gentle cycle,” he says. He must see something on Steve’s face because he explains, “slightly nauseous and a little dizzy, but I’ll be okay.” 

“Good.” Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s knees to steady himself. “I was really worried.” 

“I know, I heard you shouting at them. You’re my knight in shining armor.” Bucky cups Steve’s jaw in his hands and kisses him. Steve sways up into it, ignoring it when someone clears their throat behind him. It’s been a long day, they’ve almost died a few times each, he’s going to kiss his boyfriend and he doesn’t care who sees. 

“That’s a very effective crime-fighting method there, Cap,” Black Widow says. 

“Shut up, Nat,” Steve mutters, licking at Bucky’s lips. Bucky moans, threading his fingers through Steve’s hair. 

“Please stop making out with my cousin, Mr Captain America, sir. It’s too weird.” 

Steve glances over his shoulder to see a woman around their age pointedly holding a hand over her eyes. The older woman next to her just looks amused. 

“Oh, leave them alone, Julia. They’re not hurting anything,” she says. Steve gets to his feet as she moves closer. “Hi. Lillian Barnes, Marshall's mother. That’s Julia Fischer, Mark’s only child. We’re part of the Committee for Magical Wildlife Protection. It’s nice to finally meet you, Steve.” 

“Uh, likewise,” he says, shaking her hand and shooting a look at Bucky. 

Bucky smiles sheepishly. “My parents are gossips,” he says. “I tell them I have a boyfriend and they have to tell all their siblings and in-laws. So of course they start hunting you down.” 

“He would have met us eventually,” Lillian says. 

“Yeah, at the next family get together. You couldn’t wait until the family Christmas party? We’re just trying to live here,” Bucky teases. 

“You were going to invite me to your family Christmas?” Steve asks, shaken. 

“Well, yeah.” Bucky looks up, blinking, and then pulls himself to his feet, clutching at the car until he can clutch at Steve instead. “Steve, of course I’m inviting you to it. You’re my boyfriend, my soulmate. I love you. I know Joel already said you’re family, and my siblings all love you too. You have a standing invitation to all future family functions. You belong there, with me.” 

Steve doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he doesn’t want anyone else to see it, so he hides it in Bucky’s neck. Bucky slips one hand under the shield to rub his back and combs the other through his hair. Everyone gives them a quiet moment until Julia coughs pointedly. 

“Well, I was called here to save some dragons, but so far I haven’t seen so much as a scale or a wingtip. What gives?” She asks. 

“Here’s one,” Becca says. Everyone turns quickly to her. She looks a little dazed but full of happy shock. In her hands is curled a tiny blue and yellow dragon. It makes Steve realize just how much Sunday has grown in the month or so since she first hatched. She’s nearly twice the size of the new hatchling. 

Joel and Veronica stand at her shoulders, each holding lumpy cloth bags, with Hawkeye behind them. “We found more eggs,” Joel says. “But they’re all still a few days off from hatching, I think. We padded them really well.” He gestures to the bags. 

“You can put them in my car,” Dottie says, and the head for the parking lot. Dottie reaches for the new hatchling, but only brushes her fingers over it instead of taking it from Becca, who gently turns it so she can see all sides. “Female,” Dottie proclaims, smiling. “Congratulations.” 

“Thanks, Grandma,” Becca says, smiling and holding the dragon close. It peeps at her and nuzzles her fingers. 

“Aww, baby,” Hawkeye whispers. He’s suddenly standing close to Steve and Bucky, with Black Widow at his side. “Can I have one?” 

“I’m not your mother, Clint, ask someone else.” 

Hawkeye pouts and looks enviously at the bags Joel and Veronica are carrying away. Steve makes a mental note to ask Dottie what’s going to happen with them. 

A crackle of static interrupts his thoughts, and several people around him wince simultaneously. Black Widow doesn’t even twitch. “Oops, sorry about that. This is the Falcon reporting in. We’ve got most of their big bads and a bunch of the goons contained here, SHIELD is rounding them up. Do you want me to check in with Thor or just head your way, Cap?” He asks. 

“Checking in is not necessary,” Thor says before Steve can speak. “We have found many subdued dragon babies. These committee people are soothing them and preparing them for transport to a safe place. I will stay and keep watch to be sure no one interferes.” 

“That sounds good, Thor. Falcon, go ahead and come over. I think we’ve just about wrapped up here too, but I’d like to do a final sweep both inside and out,” Steve says. 

“I can do the outside sweep,” Iron Man says, hovering nearby. Bucky grips Steve’s shoulder tight. “Everyone here is too...touchy-feely. See you in a minute.” He flies off again, and Steve rolls his eyes and turns to Black Widow. 

“How did things go at your location?” He asks. 

She smirks and raises her eyebrows. “I took care of it,” she says simply. A squeak comes from Becca’s direction, and when Steve glances over, he sees she’s ducked behind Lillian and is staring at Black Widow over her shoulder. Apparently Becca has only just noticed she’s there, even though she asks Steve about Natasha all the time. Black Widow, he corrects himself. 

“Steve, do you feel that?” Bucky asks suddenly. 

“What?” Steve twists to see him, and he’s looking pale again. 

“I can feel Sunday in my head. It feels like she’s in trouble.” 

Steve frowns and probes at his own mind, but nothing has changed that he can tell. 

“It feels like she’s coming closer,” Bucky says. 

“There!” Hawkeye points to where a tiny red dot is coming down from the sky, wings fluttering unevenly. 

“Is she going to crash?” Steve asks, leaning forward, ready to run if he needs to catch her. 

“I don’t...think so,” Bucky says, unsure. 

Sunday drops height but keeps flying, and as she passes a doorway, a hand reaches out and grabs her. 

“Sunday!” Bucky shouts as she screeches. A man stumbles out of the doorway, and Steve recognizes him as Rumlow, the ringleader. He instantly readies his shield, Black Widow’s guns and Hawkeye’s bow rising next to him. 

“Don’t move!” Rumlow says. “If anyone moves, I’ll snap her pretty little neck!” He pins Sunday’s body under his arm to contain her wings and fits one hand over her head, the other at the base of her head. 

“What do you want?” Steve demands. 

“You’re gonna give me all those eggs you found and let me go free or else--flip!” He lets go of Sunday suddenly and she yanks viciously at his hand before flying over to them, wings beating hard. She drops something at Steve’s feet and wraps herself around Bucky’s neck, scolding both of them. When Steve looks down, he sees a thick and stubby finger lying on the ground between his boots. 

“How about you surrender quietly and we’ll see if they can reattach your finger at the hospital?” Steve asks instead. He might be taunting him, just a little. Rumlow glares at them all, clutching his hand, and then reaches for a gun. Before he can lift it, an arrow sinks into each of his shoulders and a bullet knocks the gun from his hand. “Guess that’s a no,” Steve says before he throws his shield to knock him out. Hawkeye goes to restrain him while Black Widow picks up the thumb, wrinkling her nose in distaste. 

“He doesn’t really need his right thumb, does he?” she says, sticking it in a bag. “We can use it for evidence.” Steve just shakes his head at her and she smirks before going to help Hawkeye. Steve turns to check on Sunday and Bucky. 

“Is she okay?” Steve asks, petting his hands over what he can reach of her. 

“Just a little bruised and winded,” Bucky manages, sounding a little strangled. 

“Good, that’s good,” Steve says, relieved. He intends to say more, there’s so much they still have to do, but Lillian calls him away. They don’t get a chance to do more than check in with each other a couple times over the next two hours. Bucky is the designated egg-watcher since Sunday won’t leave him, and Steve has too much to do. He has to help clear the building and detain the men they find. A few more eggs are discovered, but Joel volunteers to take them to the car before Steve can. He whips his shirt off and wraps them in it gently, and as he walks away, an old man with receding graying hair and a mustache pauses and looks at him, peering through his large sunglasses. He’s dressed like a SHIELD agent, his jacket proclaiming his last name as Lee, even though he looks like he’s close to 100 years old. 

“That young man sure has a lot of tattoos,” he says before going on his way. 

Then someone reports that the big mother dragon has destroyed her warehouse and flown off, and he has to coordinate with SHIELD to make sure that’s being taken care of and there won’t be pictures of dragons in the morning’s paper. When it’s finally over, the whole team and all of Bucky’s relatives cram into cars to head to the shop. 

The Sun And The Star is the best thing he’s ever seen in that moment they arrive, because he knows it means he’ll get to rest soon. Becca heads in to the couch, where Bobby and Alice immediately bracket her, cooing over the little dragon in her hands. Dottie closes up the shop once they’re all in, and while Thor starts dragging over extra furniture, Bucky and Steve stumble past Becca to the stairs, ignoring anyone who calls after them. Tuesday leaps from the arm of the couch and grabs Bucky’s arm, climbing up to his shoulder. Steve pointedly locks the door at the bottom of the stairs, the door at the top of the stairs, and the door to Bucky’s room once they’re inside. Becca still has the key and will be able to get in, but he’s sending a message that they don’t want to be disturbed. 

When Steve turns from making sure the door is locked, he sees Bucky has let Sunday and Tuesday curl up together on what has become Steve’s pillow. He doesn’t mind because he plans to use Bucky as a pillow anyway. Bucky has flopped on his side of the bed, still wearing his shoes. 

“Bucky, come on, you can’t sleep like that,” Steve says even though he’s tired enough to just flop down too. 

Bucky whines wordlessly. “I don’t wanna move.” 

Steve sighs and goes to start undressing him. It’s a lot less sexy than he’d planned for tonight. Bucky helps by squirming out of his shirt and then refusing to move again. Steve gets him down to his boxers and calls it good, lining up his boots and Bucky’s shoes by the door and making sure all of Bucky’s clothes ended up in the hamper. 

“Steve, come to bed,” Bucky says. 

“In a minute.” He props his shield against the wall, double checks that the door is locked and the curtains are closed, and then strips off his uniform, dropping the pieces with Bucky’s clothes. When he takes off his pants, Bucky’s breath catches so loud it’s almost a gasp. 

“Is that…? Steve, have you been wearing that all day?” He asks, eyes fixed on Steve’s underwear. Steve fingers the edge of the panties. 

“Yeah, I...I kind of had plans.” They’re the same dark blue as the shirt Bucky likes best on him, the same as the uniform he just took off. Most of the back and the sides are mesh, just a solid panel covering the actual bits and pieces. He turns his back to take them off and Bucky actually whimpers. Steve drags on some sweatpants and turns to see Bucky staring at the panties mournfully, sitting on top of the hamper. “They’ll be there another day,” Steve says, crawling onto bed. 

“Promise?” Bucky asks. 

“Promise.” Steve settles on him and kisses him, long and slow. They’re both too tired to get up to anything more, and they won’t do it with pets in the room anyway, nevermind that Sunday and Tuesday are already fast asleep. “I’ll make sure they’re cleaned and then I’ll surprise you with them in a few days.” 

“You are the best boyfriend,” Bucky says sleepily, smiling at him. “You should marry me.” 

Steve can’t breathe for a minute, his foundations shaken. “Okay Bucky. Whatever you say,” he agrees. Bucky yawns, kisses him again, mumbles goodnight and closes his eyes. Steve rests his head on Bucky’s chest, turned to watch the dragons. They give off a soft glow in the near-dark, their combined colors making a rainbow haze around them. Tuesday snuffles and buries his nose under Sunday’s wing. Steve smiles, pets Bucky’s side, and closes his eyes to join his little family in slumber. 

~~

A few days later, after everyone has had time to recover, Steve, Bucky, and his siblings head to Stark Tower in Manhattan. It’s technically called Avengers Tower now, but it was called Stark Tower for longer so Bucky’s used to the name. Sunday sits proudly in kitten form on Steve’s shoulder while Tuesday hides inside Bucky’s shirt. Becca’s dragon, who she has decided to call Friday “to keep with the theme”, naps in her purse, having not yet mastered the kitten disguise. They get cleared by Tower security and head up to the Avengers common floor, where the rest of the team waits for them. Becca turns pink when she sees Natasha in casual clothes but manages to keep her cool this time. The four of them are left by the door as Steve strides forward to greet his team. 

“Is that a cat? Who said you could bring a cat in here? I didn’t okay this,” Tony says. 

“It’s not a cat, Tony,” Steve says. Sunday chirps and spreads her wings, breaking the illusion. 

“Is that a dragon?” Pepper Potts says, stepping out of the kitchen. Bucky can almost feel his siblings fight the urge to swoon at once. “Oh, she’s darling! Is she friendly?” 

“Usually, yes, but she had a rough time of it a few days ago so she’s been clingy,” Steve says. “Her name is Sunday.” 

“Oh, the poor thing,” Pepper says. 

Bucky works up the courage to cross the room and take Steve’s hand, tickling Tuesday so he’ll climb out of his shirt. “And this is her little brother Tuesday. He’s pretty shy.” 

“They’re precious,” Pepper says. She extends a hand for Bucky to shake. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Pepper Potts.” 

“Bucky. Uh, Barnes.” Her hand is slim in his, with pointed nails. When she lets him go, he waves back over his shoulder, clutching Steve’s hand. “Those are my siblings. Bobby, Becca, and Alice.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Pepper says warmly. Tony drags her away and the Falcon slips into her place, one eyebrow raised as he eyes Bucky critically. 

“Sam Wilson,” he introduces. “This is your boy you’ve been hiding from us all these months?” He asks Steve. 

“Yeah,” Steve says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Hmm. Good. Keep him away from the crazy here so they can’t scare him off,” Sam says. He glances over Bucky’s shoulder and then leans in to whisper. “Any of them up for dating?” 

“Becca is very gay, Alice is ace, and Bobby is a very busy college student,” Bucky says, amused. “But he’s bi.” 

“Shame,” Sam says, going over to meet them anyway. Bucky raises his eyebrows and Steve chuckles. 

“I’m glad they like you.” He guides Bucky over to a couch and gets them drinks. Soon, everyone’s gathered on the furniture, Pepper and Tony cuddled up together, Natasha’s legs draped over Clint’s lap. Becca and Bobby have crammed onto the same couch as Bucky and Steve, only Alice brave enough to sit by herself, next the actual _Bruce Banner_. (Bucky had a miniature heart attack when he recognized him; he might’ve had a minor crush in college.)

Steve starts the little get-together by going around and saying everyone’s names in case any were missed. Then he thanks his team for their involvement, and checks to make sure they’re all doing okay. Everyone says they’re fine, and most of them have started eyeing the bag by his feet before he reaches for it. Bucky smirks, because he knows what’s in it. 

“I have gifts for a few of you,” he says, tugging on a pair of leather gloves before pulling out a dragon egg. It’s nearly identical to Sunday’s egg, but the scale pattern is more round and there’s less orange in the color. Steve stands up and crosses the room, extending it to Pepper and Tony. Neither one reaches for it. “It’s a dragon egg. It’ll hatch a dragon like those.” He nods to the three dragons ranged on Bucky, Becca, and Bobby. “Touching the egg, and touching the dragon when it hatches, will help you bond with it. They’re pretty intelligent creatures, and very long-lived.” 

“And this is for us?” Pepper says, carefully reaching out to touch the top. 

“As much as Tony muttered about them flitting around too much, I know he was curious. They can take care of themselves pretty quickly too, if you get too busy,” Steve says. Pepper elbows Tony to get him to take the egg. 

“Thanks,” Tony says grudgingly. Steve heads back to the bag, retrieves an egg that’s mostly purple with hints of red and blue, and turns toward Clint, who’s already bouncing in his seat. 

“Is it for me? Please say it’s for me,” he pleads. 

“It’s for you, Clint,” Steve says, full of amusement. 

“Yes!” Clint reaches for it eagerly. “I will love it and feed it and call it George,” he says, petting the top of the egg. Natasha rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. 

“There better not be one in that bag for me,” she warns. 

“Would I do that to you?” Steve asks, smirking. Sam sits forward, eyebrows raised expectantly. Steve mimes digging around in the bag just to mess with him, and Bucky snickers. 

“Come on, man,” Sam says eventually, and Steve pulls out the third and final egg in the bag. He presents it to Sam, who takes it and fingers the edges of the red scales. 

“If anyone else wants one, I know who to talk to to make that happen,” Steve offers. 

Bruce lifts his hands. “I think I’m good, thanks,” he says, leaning back in his seat. Thor looks intrigued, tipping over to carefully look at, but not touch, the egg in Sam’s hands. 

Bucky thinks that’ll be the end of it, but Pepper invites them to stay for lunch, and they eagerly accept. Over lunch, Becca manages to actually speak to Natasha in proper words. Bucky gets the sense Natasha knows Becca is crushing on her, but has no interest in reciprocating. Bobby and Alice get into a debate with Bruce about science and ethics, Thor listening in curiously and adding his thoughts. Clint makes a game out of throwing food bits to Sunday as she flies around the table, while Pepper coos at Friday and feeds her much smaller pieces. Tony and Steve bicker about proper table manners, Steve’s arm wrapped securely around Bucky’s shoulders. Sam defends Steve in between trying to coax Tuesday to eat from his hands, but the shy dragon isn’t having it. 

They leave after lunch on good terms and high spirits, with plans to do it again sometime soon. Steve pauses just outside the door to the Tower, glancing up at the building and fingering the ring box in his pocket. 

“Steve, are you coming?” Bucky calls. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming, he says, following them with a smile. _Soon,_ he tells himself. _Very soon._


End file.
